


Ishtar

by Goudeneeuw



Category: Prince of Persia - All Media Types, Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (2010)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Battle Couple, Canon Divergence, Dastan doesn't, F/M, Not PG-13 like the movie :), Post-Movie, Tamina remembers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-04-07 17:37:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19089865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goudeneeuw/pseuds/Goudeneeuw
Summary: This was not going well. Feeling annoyed with him and her own inability to read him like she used to, Tamina spat waspishly, “Do you always do what they tell you?”Dastan looked down at her with a closed expression. "As third son, I must support my brothers and do what they ask of me."“I thought a man like you would prefer to make his own decisions,” she goaded him.With a hard edge to his voice, he said with a sneer, “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you know me, Princess.”Familiar words which caused her irritation to dissolve in a heartbeat. Tamina couldn’t help it, she smirked and seeing his bemusement she laughed in his face. With her hands clasping the dagger behind her back, she closed the distance between them until their bodies almost touched, looking up at him with a flirtatious challenge in her eyes.“Oh? And what more is there?” she murmured, her voice like velvet.“What kind of game are you playing?” he growled.A 'Tamina remembers/Dastan does not' story.Because I like the idea of Tamina outsmarting and (out)manipulating Nizam.





	1. Chapter 1

She was in the whirlwind, unbearable golden light and biting sand… then stillness. Tamina opened her eyes and looked with dazed confusion at the dust and banners of the Persian army approaching Alamut, holding the dagger tight in her hand. She staggered a little and sat down, trying to calm her racing heart, to control the sick horror that gripped her watching Dastan fall after being stabbed in the side by Nizam only a moment before. But Dastan had forced Nizam's hand from the dagger and taken the evil traitor with him into the abyss. Leaving her to stop the flow of the Sands of Time, praying it was not too late.

She and Dastan had done it, they had saved the world. But now she was apparently back at the beginning. Slowly her mind began to adjust to the new reality. Tamina realized she could prevent the violence of the city being taken by force. _But there will still be Nizam and his hassansins to deal with. And Dastan._ A plan began to take shape.

"Gather the Guardians and the Council. There is much to tell you and we haven't much time."

One hour later, everything was set in motion, her people braced for what was to come and Tamina went to prepare herself. Her immediate goals were to forestall the siege, break through Dastan's natural distrust and get him on her side. She'd have to use everything she knew about him and more to convince him he could trust her. Tamina thought about the 'more'. She was not comfortable using her beauty to manipulate men but she had to get under his skin as quickly as possible.

 _He does not trust me. He does not love me,_ she reminded herself over and over again.

Tamina put on a simple white gown and girded herself in body armour, a sword strapped to her side, the dagger hidden underneath the breastplate at the small of her back. The princes must not doubt that she was sovereign here and spoke on behalf of her people. To enforce this fact, she also donned her little-used crown, a simple circlet of gold. Tamina went down to the wall to observe the situation and have a last word with her inner circle: Asoka, the captain of the guard; Lady Ravan, the next ranking guardian, and Ikram, the spokesman of the council.

The setting sun painted the desert red while the Persians made their camp just outside the range of catapults. _As if we had any,_ she thought sourly.

"Remember, if he can be convinced, you can trust Prince Dastan. If my plan doesn't work, no matter the consequences, kill Nizam and hunt down his hassansins. Especially the one who betrayed us. Captain Asoka, have you sent reinforcements to the Guardian Temple and ordered the evacuation?"

"Yes, Highness."

Ravan said with a question in her voice, "You have not given the order to bury the sandglass."

"No, when the Persians find the catacombs filled in, their suspicions will be raised and they'll dig it out. That's what happened last time at Nizam's urging. I intend to show it to Prince Dastan and then let the sands go."

"You are resolved to tell him everything?" Ikram asked with a hint of disapproval.

"Yes, he saved us, he saved the world. This Dastan can't be so different than the other," she said almost to herself, hoping it was true.

At that same moment, the three princes were studying the city to decide on the best strategy for their attack.

"The walls are formidable," muttered Garsiv. A flash of gold caught his eye and he trained his spyglass at the rampart facing them. "We are being observed," he said, handing the glass to Tus.

"The ruler is indeed a woman, a beautiful one."

"At least her body is," joked Dastan who was looking now. The armour she wore stirred his curiosity but she was too far away to see her face clearly. The impression was indeed one of beauty, however. When she left the battlement, Dastan focused on the wall by the Eastern gate and had an idea. With a smirk twisting his lips, he thought, _Should I ask permission or just do it?_

Tus had turned away to return to the royal tent when they heard a trumpet sound. The city gate opened and they saw the woman from the rampart walking out alone, turning to watch the gate close with a creaky rumble, leaving her alone and unprotected.

Garsiv raised an eyebrow. "Unexpected."

Tus glanced at Dastan who shrugged. "A clear offer of parley, better go see what she wants."

Along with many of their soldiers, the three princes and their uncle rode to meet her. As they halted before Tamina, still mounted and towering over her, the men couldn't help staring. She stood calmly, with haughty dignity and an undercurrent of irritation that she had to crane her neck to look up at them. She regarded them all coolly but let her gaze linger on Dastan with an unreadable emotion on her face and he frowned, surprised by her attention. She was indeed beautiful... too beautiful. Warm brown eyes and a luscious mouth, she regarded them with innate pride. Clad in her gleaming armour she made him think of Ishtar, the goddess of war and sex.

Tamina felt herself tremble slightly, seeing Dastan's knotted brow and sharp blue eyes. Serious for once, regarding her with impersonal, wary curiosity. Four hours ago she had watched in horror, helpless, as he fell to his death. Mastering her churning emotions, finally she spoke.

"I am Princess Tamina, monarch and high priestess of this holy city. Princes of Persia, you have been told we have forges here and have betrayed our neutrality by selling weapons to your enemies. We do not, we have not. This is false information." Tamina looked directly at Nizam and his eyes narrowed, wondering how she had learned of his subterfuge.

Turning her attention to Tus again, she continued. "My words alone will not convince you. To avoid needless destruction and bloodshed, I place myself in your custody and give you free rein to enter Alamut, to search for yourselves."

Tamina unsheathed her sword and handed it, hilt first, up to Tus. The symbolic gesture of surrender which he accepted with a solemn nod.

"Try not to make a mess," she couldn't help adding with biting sarcasm.

Raising her arm as the signal to reopen the gate, she observed their reactions to her easy capitulation. Tus was bemused, Nizam looked smugly pleased, Dastan puzzled and Garsiv suspicious.

"Shall we go in?" asked Tamina. Garsiv growled and the other men hesitated, obviously understanding it as a warning.

Tamina sighed. "You expect a trap. Very well Prince Garsiv." She went to Dastan, looking up at him. "I will ride with you as hostage. Put a knife to my throat if you must," she grumbled huffily.

Tamina put a foot on Dastan's stirrup and held out her hand with serene confidence. When he just looked at it blankly, she snapped crossly "Dastan!" He blinked and pulled her up behind him in a smooth, natural motion as if they had done it a hundred times. _Which of course we have,_ she smiled to herself.

Before, riding with him had been annoying, awkward and finally comforting. She would hiss angry complaints in his ear about the heat or her hunger, lean against his solid back and doze, tease him about his poor riding skills. He'd complain about her hair blowing into his face or whine about how unfair it was that she could sleep while riding and he couldn't. The bittersweet memory of bickering or laughing together, how he softly caressed her arm that curled around his waist.

As the soldiers went before them, Tamina took a moment to enjoy being close to him, inhaling his scent of sand and sweat, closing her eyes in pleasure, reassuring herself that he lived. Dastan was highly aware of her behind him and misinterpreted her deep intake of breath.

"I apologize if my stench offends you," he sneered.

Tamina wanted to throw him off balance, to break through his defenses, so she allowed herself to give in to temptation and wrapped her arms tight around his chest, pressing herself against the hard armour covering his back and nuzzled his bare shoulder with her cheek, letting her lips brush light as a feather against his naked skin.

Dastan gasped and stiffened in shock. He heard her make a kind of husky hum deep in her throat and turned to glare at her, their faces only inches apart, breath mingling. He felt flustered and tried to hide it with a smirk and raised a mocking eyebrow. Tamina smiled wistfully at him before putting a proper distance between them again and rested her hands lightly at his waist.

Night had fallen by the time they entered the silent city. Lit by torchlight, the princes saw the people of Alamut standing quietly, lining the road up to the palace to watch them go by. Tamina smiled reassuringly at her people as she passed and they smiled in return, but the mood was anxious and subdued. The only sound was the horses’ hooves on stone and a proclamation being called out.

"The Persians are welcome here. A search must be made to guarantee peace. Do not resist them. Be patient and helpful."

Hearing the decree, Tus turned to the general who rode near him. "Be thorough but gentle. Hurt no one or there will be hell to pay."

Dastan was still achingly aware of Tamina at his back, could feel her body shift into his lightly as they rode and her breath on his neck. And he felt her sigh of relief at his brother's command. She had taken a great risk, letting them in, depending on their honor. But she did not seem to fear them. And her casual familiarity with him, in particular, unsettled him in a very personal way.

When they halted at the palace gate, Tamina took support from Dastan's shoulder and dismounted easily with a little jump. Garsiv's horse came up behind her to nibble at her braided hair. Without thinking she turned to give him a cuddle and a kiss on his satin black nose.

"Behave yourself Aksh!" she laughed as he snuffled happily into her neck.

The affection Aksh was giving her was unheard of. The horse was widely acknowledged to be as grumpy as his master. Still smiling, Tamina looked around to see astonishment on the faces of all the men surrounding her. None more so than Garsiv who was so surprised he could only grunt.

"You see Garsiv?" Dastan teased, "Aksh isn't an ill-tempered beast like you're always saying. He'd just rather be ridden by a beautiful woman."

"Wouldn't we all!" called one of the soldiers from the back.

Dastan recognized Bis' voice and grinned. Hearing a very un-ladylike snort, he looked down at Tamina and saw her roll her eyes, laughing and the Persians laughed with her.

Taking her role as hostage seriously, Tamina offered her arm to Dastan, glad of the excuse to make him touch her and he took it grudgingly. As the horses were handed off and orders for the search were given, they stood together quietly out of the way. Dastan felt Tamina watching him and to avoid her gaze, let his eyes fall to where he held her instead. Under the torchlight, Dastan noticed for the first time the intricate patterns that had been painted on her, gold, white and silver.

He wondered what it signified. _Chastity, purity or possession?_ Unbidden, his thumb moved over her skin, smearing her paint, rubbing it off. Tamina sighed softly and he released her as if she had burnt him. Just then Tus bowed before her, offering his escort into the palace. Watching them go, Dastan looked down at his hand, stained with her colors and clenched it into a fist. _Dangerous, she is dangerous..._

Her court, waiting in the great hall to receive them, was relieved to see the relaxed atmosphere between their ruler and the Persians. Tamina introduced the princes and Tus felt completely at ease, her people were as open and welcoming as these formal introductions allowed. He began to worry that the forges were a lie after all.

Tamina seemed to read his thoughts. "When your father comes, he won't be happy with you for threatening a holy city."

"It would save time, Princess, if you just told us where the forges are," Nizam said in a light tone that made her skin crawl. "But I forgot, you claim innocence. Tus, my Nephew, do you think it wise to treat them so tenderly? Bring in more of our troops. My own company is prepared to keep the peace."

Before Tamina could come up with a counter-argument against the appalling idea of Nizam's troops being given free rein, Tus said, "I don't believe an occupation will be necessary. Father wouldn't approve." She let out a deep breath in relief.

"But we have seen the proof!" Nizam tried again.

"What proof exactly?" Tamina interjected. "The word of spies and a crate full of weapons that could have come from anywhere? Where are your informants?"

Nizam's eyes narrowed on her, beginning to recognize her as a serious problem.

Tus gave a small wry smile. "A good question Princess. Uncle, the spies are yours are they not? Bring them before me."

"Yes of course," Nizam said calmly. But Tamina could see he was frantically reevaluating his situation. She hoped he'd give up, but didn't think it was likely. _How can I expose him before he causes so many deaths like last time? And where are his hassansins?_ Tamina watched him leave with stark loathing on her face. Dastan saw it and wondered why.

Food and wine were brought for the evening meal but Garsiv was especially reluctant to eat and grumbled a little under his breath.

"Prince Garsiv," Tamina huffed in exasperation. "I have not heard you utter a single word. Can you actually speak?" Dastan and Tus burst out laughing and Garsiv grudgingly let out a soft chuckle and poured himself a goblet of wine.

During the meal, they asked her carefully neutral questions about the city but Tamina mostly listened to the princes plan the search and banter back and forth. She didn't know Dastan's brothers well but was willing to give them a second chance. In the time before, her first impression of Tus had not been a good one, covered in the blood of her people, making her choose marriage to him or death. But she had seen another side of him when Dastan had shown Tus the dagger's power - unconditional trust and love for his brother. He held worry beads in his hand always and Tamina understood the constant pressure he was under as Crown Prince. She was a ruler as well but her self-contained little kingdom rarely suffered serious crises. _Except for the last few weeks, of course,_ she thought grimly. The great Persian Empire probably underwent one crisis after another which he must handle with wisdom and alacrity. No wonder he needed his brothers at his side.

Garsiv was at his core a soldier, blunt and coarse. But he refused to wear the royal mask. Tamina found she liked his brusque honesty, she'd always know where she stood with him. And she thought he was beginning to soften towards her just because his horse liked her.

Tus had been watching Tamina out of the corner of his eye and asked suddenly, "If we are to believe you, that the forges are a lie, what would be the reason behind such an involved plot?"

"Our walls have not been breached in a thousand years and we hold many treasures here," she answered carefully.

"We would not-" Tus protested.

"Yes I know," Tamina interrupted, "but Alamut is legendary. Only our riches are not what most people assume them to be."

"Treasure like yourself?" Tus said smoothly and Tamina startled at the change in his voice. Tus had been attracted enough to her before to want a marriage and she felt foolish for not realizing it might cause complications. She glanced at Dastan with an alarm that she couldn't quite conceal, an unconscious appeal for him to intervene. But he only smirked at her, amused at her discomfort.

"Why aren't you married?" Dastan asked bluntly. "Or does your religion demand chastity like those old Roman priestesses. What were they called? Oh yes... Vestal Virgins."

Tamina blushed and both Tus and Garsiv choked at his inappropriate question. But Dastan gave her a smug half-smile, pleased with himself for denting her composure. He could already tell it was difficult to knock her off balance.

 _Insufferable ass!_ She'd forgotten how infuriating he could be when he wanted to. "There are not many men of suitable rank who will accept a position normally taken by a woman," Tamina practically hissed. "A monarch's Consort, without authority unless I choose to bestow it on him, whose primary purpose is to provide an heir. An effortless but not necessarily rewarding life."

"I don't know," Dastan taunted. "I think keeping you happy would take a lot of work."

"Dastan!" Tus admonished him. "Please forgive his appalling manners, Princess."

They glared at each other. Well, Tamina was glaring. Dastan was looking at her with a twist to his lips that his brothers recognized as barely controlled mischief. Tus sighed and sought a change of subject to calm the atmosphere before his little brother really got them in trouble.

Garsiv watched it all with detached interest but thankfully broke the uncomfortable silence by commenting, "Absolute rule. If you don't mind _my_ impertinence, you are actually quite young to shoulder such responsibility."

Tamina eyes broke away from Dastan's, turning her face away from them, her expression blank. "My parents died when I was young."

After an awkward pause, Dastan murmured, "You're alone."

Hearing the sympathy in his voice, Tamina met his eyes again and nodded. _Alone… until you._

They continued to eat in silence but after the meal, Tamina ventured, "Do you wish to stay in the palace? You may choose any chambers you like."

Garsiv answered, "Princess, as charming as you are, I won't sleep with my neck exposed nor allow my brothers to do so. We'll return to our camp."

What he didn't say explicitly was that Tamina must go with them as their hostage but she expected it, gesturing to one of her ladies who brought her a small satchel which she immediately passed on to Garsiv.

"Do you want to search it?" she asked archly.

He gave her a dark look but did check it for weapons and sniffed at a bottle he found.

"It's an ointment to ease the abrasions left by my armour. I'm not used to wearing it."

Dastan had a sudden image of her half-naked, rubbing the cream under a full breast and shifted uncomfortably, angry with himself. He'd tried to ignore her but found it impossible. Resorted to provocation but found he enjoyed igniting her fiery temper. Her voice was particularly disturbing, low and smoky, washing over his skin, crawling up his spine. _And she's an orphan too._ Unwelcome affinity on top of everything else.

Tamina absently plucked the crown from her head, handing it to her attendant and took a warm cloak in return. "Shall we go?"

When they reached the stables, Dastan said in a surly tone, "You can ride your own horse this time."

"But I wanted to ride with you," she teased with an exaggerated pout. Instead of the anticipated snide comeback, his eyes darkened and dropped to her mouth, making her breath hitch. He had never looked at her that way before, with blatant lust. Tamina suddenly felt uncertain and vulnerable in a way she didn't expect, as a woman with a man who wants her. It was a warning. She mounted her mare without another word.

Tamina found the army camp interesting. There was still a lot of activity, men coming and going, the sound of hearty laughter and even singing. As she walked, most of the soldiers stopped what they were doing to watch her. She was relieved the men were surprised to see a woman among them, the Persians obviously didn't take or keep women for their own amusement. Dastan brought her to a tent with two narrow beds at either end and immediately left her to rejoin his brothers.

"Is she settled?" Tus asked.

"Well enough," he mumbled, feeling guilty that he hadn't offered her even the minimal courtesies. But he needed to get away from her disturbing presence and clear his head. "Have they found anything?"

"No," Tus sighed. "No forges, nor raw materials, fuel for the fires or slag. But there are still areas in the city we haven't looked and we should search outside the wall as well."

"Their own soldiers use Persian-made weapons," Garsiv added, making Tus grimace.

"And the spies?"

"Nothing yet, Uncle has not returned. I dislike keeping the princess as a hostage but it won't be for much longer. For tonight… Dastan, she seems to prefer your company, despite your unforgivable rudeness at dinner. Behave yourself."

He glared at his brothers. Garsiv grinned back provocatively. "Don't you like her? Or do you like her too much!"

Dastan swore under his breath and walked out without replying. Garsiv raised his eyebrows, sharing a look with Tus.

Soon after, Dastan reentered their tent with a sullen expression. He poured himself wine and closed the curtain that separated the sleeping areas. Tamina heard him remove his armour and wash before laying down on his bed, ignoring her.

"So you will guard me tonight?"

Getting no response, she opened the curtain a bit to look at him. "I'm sorry to bother you... um, I have no wish to impose..."

Dastan finally glanced over at her, surprised that she seemed embarrassed.

"I need assistance to remove my armour, the last clasp on the side is stuck."

Dastan sighed, casually throwing on a shirt before he reluctantly rose to help her. Tamina tried not to stare at his bare chest visible under the open tunic, startling a bit when his large, warm hands enclosed her hips as he impersonally twisted her around toward the lamplight to get a clearer look at the clasp. He gave it a few hard tugs before it finally opened, bent out of shape.

"Unusable now, it'll have to be repaired," he commented as he peeled the breastplate open. "What's this tucked in at your back? No wonder it didn't fit properly."

He lifted the armour over her head and drew the dagger out from its hiding place at the small of her back. Tamina hissed in pain as he took it, rubbing at the sore spot. Dastan held up the dagger and regarded her with accusing eyes, hard as ice.

"Hidden weapons Princess?" he snarled.

"It is our most sacred artifact and my duty is to carry it on my person when the city is threatened. It's not very sharp," she joked, hoping to deflect his anger.

"Sharp enough to stab an unsuspecting Persian in the heart as he sleeps!"

"If you're afraid of it Dastan, why don't you carry it for me. But hidden, alright? It is dangerous, but not as a knife."

Tamina held her breath, wondering what he would do. She actually wanted Dastan to keep the dagger. If she predicted Nizam's next move correctly, it was safer with him.

"I did not give you leave to address me so informally," he said coldly.

His rebuke was thrown at her with such casual arrogance, Tamina flushed at the reprimand even as her eyes narrowed in irritation. But she managed to hold her tongue. After considering her for a long moment, Dastan handed the dagger back.

"Tomorrow I'll ask my brother what should be done with it."

This was not going well. Feeling annoyed with him and her own inability to read him like she used to, Tamina spat waspishly, "Do you always do what they tell you?"

Dastan looked down at her with a closed expression. "As third son, I must support my brothers and do what they ask of me."

"I just thought a man like you would prefer to make his own decisions."

With a hard edge to his voice, he sneered, "Don't make the mistake of thinking you know me, Princess."

Familiar words which caused her irritation to dissolve in a heartbeat. Tamina couldn't help it, she smirked and seeing his bemusement she laughed in his face. With her hands clasping the dagger behind her back, she closed the distance between them until their bodies almost touched, looking up at him in flirtatious challenge.

"Oh? And what more is there?" she murmured, her voice like velvet.

"What kind of game are you playing?" he growled.

But it was undeniable, his want for her. She saw it in his searching heated gaze as his eyes swept over her, as real as a touch. Tamina felt a curl of warmth unfurl in her belly as he took her by the arms and kissed her, lips warm and soft on her own, licking the corner of her mouth, demanding entry. She gasped, opening her mouth to him and his hand moved up to her neck, burying his fingers in her silky hair, deepening the kiss, their tongues twisting. His other hand began to roam freely over her body, feeling her tremble when he palmed a breast, rubbing and squeezing as her nipple hardened, caressing her waist and hip and bottom. Pulling her tight into his body to grind her against his hardness.

Tamina was overwhelmed and marveled at the sensations throbbing through her body. His scent enveloping her, his taste in her mouth. A sweet ache and a gush of hot wetness between her thighs. She reached around his neck with one arm for support and thrust her free hand under his shirt, running it greedily over his naked back, reveling in the feeling of his warm skin. He groaned and dragged his open mouth down her neck, around the heavy chain she wore, to the base of her throat, sucking softly and heard her moan his name with her delicious husky voice.

Dastan shuddered with need. _I have to stop this. Now._ He pulled away forcefully, breathing hard, jaw clenched and watched her, mesmerized, as she whimpered a little and opened her eyes, dazed. She wobbled and he held her waist to steady her.

 _Hell, I almost lost control just from kissing her._ She was exhilarating and Dastan admitted to himself he wouldn't be able to withstand her if her aim was to seduce him. He needed to say something so obnoxious she'd want nothing more to do with him. He dropped his hands and took a step back, pausing for a moment until he was sure he could speak normally.

"As pleasant as this is, you should realize no offer of betrothal will be coming from me. I don't want any misunderstanding between us." He gave her a wicked grin that was both mocking and charming. "However, if you just want a dalliance…"

Tamina drew herself up, righteous anger building in her. But then she saw herself as he must see her. _After all, he is a very desirable prize._ The last unmarried Prince of Persia and a beautiful, impressive man in his own right. She had been outrageously bold with him, no wonder he thought she was trying to trap him. She looked at him calmly, her mask coming to her rescue, concealing the hurt from his sharp gaze.

"Be assured Prince Dastan, I do not seek your hand in marriage, nor your lovely eyes caressing me. All I want is your trust." She returned to her side of the tent, sad and deflated.

She’d surprised him again. Shaking his head Dastan went to his bed and tried to ignore his painful arousal. He concentrated instead on all the reasons he should be suspicious of her. The gracefully easy surrender of her city especially. He felt she wanted something from him. _And if not my eligible self, then what? She said my trust but there must be more to it than that._ His mind on the machinations of devious women and thankfully not on her luscious body, he finally dozed off.

Even though Tamina was exhausted and this was the first time in weeks she could enjoy a real bed, sleep eluded her. Listening to his even breathing on the other side of the curtain, Tamina thought about the Dastan she was dealing with now. He was different than in the erased time, which worried her. More watchful and serious, dutifully following his brothers' lead. His playful humor was evident but he kept it subdued. He was a prince of a great empire, after all, bound by royal fetters like she was. But in the other time, he had mocked, teased and charmed her out of her shell. Alone with him out in the world, she could finally be herself. He had changed her and she refused to be the cold, rigid girl she once was.

Dastan's journey with the dagger had begun with a great victory, earning him the respect and praise from his men and more importantly, his brothers. He was embarrassed by the title they gave him, 'Lion of Persia', but it proved that he was just as much a warrior prince as they are. And then he saw his father die in front of him. Then Bis, Garsiv and finally Tus. A hero was forged out of the grief and betrayal he experienced. That man was inside him, but not yet formed. Dastan had been partially unmade and Tamina missed him.

But the kiss. _Where did that passion come from? How had he kept it hidden from me in all those weeks together? Too much grief and fear?_ In the time before they had shared only one kiss. A kiss of innocent longing. Of love and farewell. She was not sexually experienced and hadn't realized how chaste they'd been with each other. But now she knew. Dastan had protected her from everything. Including himself. She knew he regretted kissing her, but Tamina did not. He'd shown her the fire that existed between them and despite what she'd told him, she wanted more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My husband casually pointed out that the spyglass didn't exist back then (bless him) which I kinda knew but chose to ignore. However, the time gap is way beyond reasonable wiggle room so instead of changing my story, I'll publish a correction instead: The first telescope was invented in 1608 by a Dutch eyeglass maker named Hans Lippershey.  
> EDIT: It has been suggested that a recently discovered piece of Greek pottery dating back to 4th century BC depicts a man using an early telescope and that ancient people were able to connect two lenses inside a simple tube to make an early, crude telescope able to magnify clearly up to seven times and even as much as twenty times, albeit with considerable distortion.  
> Can't wait to tell him - HA!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tamina regarded Dastan, wondering if he would follow or if she must show him the ultimate proof first. He crossed his arms and shook his head. Her heart sank but gathering courage, her expression hardened with purpose and resolve.

It felt like she had just fallen asleep when a soldier woke them before dawn. “Apologies Your Highness,” he addressed Dastan. “Asoka, the Captain of the city is here with urgent news for Princess Tamina.”

“Let him come,” Dastan said as he groggily rose from his bed. He frowned at a languorous Tamina as she opened the curtain between them, beautifully rumpled from sleep, imagining he had just kissed her awake and shook his head to clear it.

Asoka entered, nodded to Dastan and spoke without asking for a private meeting. “Highness, someone has tried to take the dagger as you thought. He came in from the star window. We left the temple unguarded as you ordered so no one was hurt.”

“Were there signs of the snake?” her voice sharp, wide awake now.

“Yes Princess.”

“And so it begins,” she murmured. _Again._

Tamina glanced at Dastan who was frowning at her in confusion. _They treat me like a member of their inner circle. And the dagger she had casually told me to carry is under some kind of threat. What's going on here?_

“Take me back to the city,” she demanded and handed the dagger to him, accepting no refusal. “They will not expect you to have it.”

Dastan began to perceive what was at stake. “Someone wants the dagger and won’t expect me to have it. They think you carry it. You’ll be the next target.” Tamina nodded and he swore.

“Captain Asoka, they’ll assume I will take the dagger to safety, prepare your men for an attack on the Guardian Temple. We have to speak to the other princes, then I will take Prince Dastan to the catacombs. Watch for us in the grotto in a few days.” Tamina placed a reassuring hand on his arm and he bowed to her and left.

Tamina and Dastan stood looking at each other. He was still frowning at her. “Dastan, I intend to be as truthful with your brothers as I can but I ask that the dagger not be mentioned. I mean that the object that my enemy seeks is a dagger. It is a lie of omission but…”. He did not agree one way or the other, just studied her. “I… I’ll tell you everything, but the fewer people who learn of it, the safer we’ll all be.” After a long moment, he nodded reluctantly.

Dastan went into the royal tent first to rouse his brothers. “There has been a development. The Princess will be joining us so get decent, she waits outside.”

The princes regarded her seriously when she came in and Dastan began bluntly, “Princess Tamina is in danger and our presence makes us involved. There was an attempt to steal a sacred object from her temple last night. They’ll be coming after her for it next.”

As Tus and Garsiv digested this surprising turn of events, Tamina elaborated “I believe the false information passed to you about the weapons was an attempt to lure the Persian army into cracking open our defenses, to make it easier to steal the artifact in the confusion. I thought they might give up when your attack was prevented but it seems they are determined.”

“Have you identified your enemy?” Tus asked.

Tamina paused, choosing her words carefully. “I recently learned that a priest of our order has joined your hassansins.”

“Hassansins! But we disbanded them!” Tus protested.

“Disbanded maybe, but not eliminated. The traitor priest knows the value of what we guard here and how to get it.”

The men were silent and looked at each other grimly. Tamina gave them the information they needed in order to fight back.

“There are seven hassansins. The leader is a man with a scarred face and pale blue eyes. He is a formidable swordsman and has the power to control snakes, he carries the vipers with him on his body.” At that Dastan turned to her sharply. _How did she know?_

“Most dangerous is a spike thrower. He wears a device that propels the blades a great distance with tremendous force, at least 100 paces. The third uses whips, one with a metal claw, the other with a stinger like a scorpion at the ends. The priest wears a mask over half his face and wields a double-bladed halberd and there is one who throws exploding devices that are no bigger than a fist. Another wears an armoured claw on one arm and the last uses spears. Also, they travel through the desert hidden in sand whirlwinds.”

The princes’ faces grew darker and darker as she spoke. Her information concurred with what they had been taught of the hassansins. Finally Garsiv said, “You must stay here in our camp for safety.”

But that was not what she wanted and a bald lie was necessary. “Prince Tus, I have a secure hiding place to take the artifact outside the city in the mountains, a day's ride from here.” She glanced at Dastan, hoping he wouldn’t contradict her. “I request that you allow Prince Dastan to act as my protector instead of my guard.” He returned her look, puzzled, but for the first time began to comprehend that she had a plan to protect the dagger and herself but needed his help. He decided to see where it would lead.

“The hassansins will no doubt lurk around the palace looking for her. It could give us the opportunity to pick them off one by one,” Garsiv commented. “Which is what you planned, isn’t it Princess?” Tamina crooked a wan smile at him.

“Well they are creatures of our own making, it is only right that we deal with them,” Tus sighed. “Very well, we’ll do our best. Dastan go with the princess and keep her safe. And we must send word to father not to come here if hassansins are at large.”

Tamina was relieved the king would be safely kept away but worried about Nizam. She still had no idea how to expose his treachery. If the princes shared what she had told them about his own killers it would give him an advantage. _Do I dare plant a seed of doubt or even tell them directly who their true enemy really is?_ As she was leaving the tent with Dastan she turned back.

“Please,” she began, her voice low and they could see the fear and reluctance on her face. “I need to give you another warning, but you won’t believe me.” She drew a shaky breath. “The hassansins are controlled by your uncle, Nizam.”  

“What?! How dare you!” shouted Garsiv.

Tus looked furious as well but held up his hand to let her speak. “He believes there is a power in Alamut that can make him king.” She turned away in resignation, recognizing the brief rapport she had with the princes, with Dastan, was broken. But at least if Nizam made a mistake, they might notice it.  

They rode to the city in bitter silence. Trying to speak with Dastan now would cause a row, his temper was roiling under the surface but he accompanied her nonetheless. The impasse continued until they reached her rooms where Tamina asked her attendant to bring them food for a morning meal. She took a deep breath and wondered how to tell him the rest of her plan, which was basically giving her some time and privacy to confess it all to him. Hoping he was willing to listen. And if he wasn’t, well she accepted what she must do to convince him to take their situation seriously. But the thought of it froze her blood.

“The hassansin expect me to take the dagger to our temple in the mountains for safekeeping, but as you heard, Asoka has prepared the guardians there to defend it and can hopefully kill some of them. Instead of exposing the dagger out in the open, I intend to go with you to a sanctuary here in the city known only to myself. My people know of its existence but not its location.” Dastan said nothing and before she could continue, her maid returned with the food.

“Lida, I go to the guardian temple shortly. While I am away, stay with your mother and do not come back to the palace until I send for you.” her maid looked worried but acknowledged Tamina’s command and left them. Dastan was slightly appeased that she told the girl the same lie she had given his brothers. But he wasn’t ready to ignore the unspeakable slander of his uncle.

“You're a manipulative bitch aren't you?” He said it insolently, almost lazily, anticipating a fight.

Tamina raised an eyebrow at the blunt insult but gave him a satisfied smile. “Yes Dastan. I’m glad you're getting to know me.”

With a snort, he gave up baiting her, retreating to stony silence. The meal was uncomfortable to say the least. Tamina drank a goblet of wine to steady her nerves, watching him underneath her lashes. Even now, he didn’t eat anything from a plate until she had some first. She teased him by taking a bite of an apple and handing him the rest and he smiled grudgingly. Their meal finished, Tamina stood and began to braid her hair, arms raised, the movement doing lovely things to her breasts. Again Dastan was disconcerted by her unconcerned informality with him. It was too intimate but he couldn’t look away, inwardly cursing her. And Tamina saw desire in his eyes again and how much he resented it and her.

She turned away with a heavy heart. “The entrance to the refuge is here,” leading him down a spiral stair to a bathing chamber, a simple round room tiled in green and gold. A diffuse column of light shining down from a round opening in the roof illuminated wisps of steam rising from the dark water.

“The pool is a natural hot spring, there is an inlet near the bottom we must swim through.”

Tamina regarded Dastan, wondering if he would follow or if she must show him the ultimate proof first. He crossed his arms and shook his head. Her heart sank but gathering courage, her expression hardened with purpose and resolve. 

“Give me the dagger please.” He paused, uncertain, but handed it to her. Her voice flat, Tamina explained “I told you the dagger is more than a knife. I am about to demonstrate what it does, in the same way I was shown by my mother when I was a girl."  _And the way you convinced your brother to listen_ she thought fleetingly. "When the moment comes, press the jewel on the hilt. You will have only one hundred heartbeats to act Dastan,” her voice quavering a little.

Tamina looked him in the eye and plunged the knife into her heart.

“Tamina!” Dastan rushed forward to stop her but when he caught her in his arms she was already dead. His hand shook as he pulled the dagger from her chest, blood everywhere, his mind blank with shock. But he saw the red jewel and pressed it hard.

In disbelief, Dastan watched himself leave his body surrounded by a fiery light … and it all went backwards. The knife coming back out of her chest, the terrified but unflinching look on her face, her standing before him telling him what to do when the moment comes… _when the moment came._

And with a sickening disorientation he returned to himself and heard her say again. “I told you the dagger is more than a knife.”

He quickly grabbed her wrist. “Don’t!" his voice cracked. "Don’t...”

He shakily pulled her into his arms in feverish relief and felt her trembling, clutching at him in reaction. Dastan’s mind whirled with what she had done and what he had seen. Time, he had wound back time. They clung to each other for a long moment, Dastan fighting to get the horrific image of her dead eyes out of his mind.

When she felt calmer, Tamina took back the dagger and held it up, the crystal hilt glowing in the soft light. “When the sand is released by the jewel it reverses time. A short moment, but that can be just enough. However, because we view it as a sacred object, we never use the dagger, it’s usually kept in the High Temple.” She looked at him steadily “It is a harsh lesson, I know. But a necessary one. Will you come with me Dastan? There is more I must tell you … and show you.”

“Yes,” he sighed, “but promise me you won’t kill yourself again to prove anything.”

“Give me a moment to light the way before you follow.” Then she paused in sudden doubt. “You can swim can’t you?”

Dastan smirked. “A bit late to ask, but yes I can.”

Tamina smiled up at him as she slid into the pool, took a deep breath and dove to the bottom, the dagger clutched tightly in her hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As she spoke they wandered through the wide streets of a once beautiful city, ghostly outlines of yellow stone buildings around them on either side. He was surprised how well-preserved it looked, as if the people had only just abandoned it. Tamina turned to a grand structure, obviously a temple. As they entered, Dastan saw a golden light before them, a warm glowing radiance, but not from the sun. They walked out onto a wide platform extending over a cavernous void and he looked in awe at the twisting column of crystal flame towering above them, pulsing with terrifying power.

Dastan waited and watched for what seemed like forever. He considered leaving his boots, swords and armour behind but thought it could betray the entrance to Tamina's sanctuary if anyone came here looking for them. He hoped the swim wouldn’t be too far; he carried a lot of weight. 

 _Where was she?_ Then he spotted a faint glow at one side of the pool near the bottom. Dastan lowered himself in and took three deep breaths before holding the last one, diving toward the light, swimming forcefully to make as much distance as possible. Unnerved by the oppressive darkness surrounding him, Dastan strove onward. Just managing to avoid hitting his head on a rocky outcrop, he saw wavering torchlight directly above and gave a last hard kick to break the surface on the other side, panting hard. 

With difficulty he pulled himself out of the water, rolling on his back to look up at Tamina as she dripped on him, shivering. Dastan sucked in a breath. Even though he was winded and sore from the exertion, he couldn’t help noticing how her wet shift clung enticingly to her body. Tanima was unconcerned with her modesty however, pulling a towel around her and tossing another to Dastan before she began tugging the wet garment off. Tearing his eyes away, Dastan saw a pile of towels and dry clothes set ready for her use laying nearby.

“I will find something dry for you to wear when we reach the refuge. It is several minutes walk from here,” she said as she changed into a plain linen tunic and trousers. 

By this time, Dastan had gotten to his feet and was looking around to give her privacy, toweling his hair dry. Tamina didn’t bother; wrapping up her hair, she left her wet things behind and led the way with the torch in hand.

“I’m sorry it took so long, I had trouble lighting the torch; they need to be replaced. Luckily I restocked the food supplies not long ago.”

Coming to a narrow stair hewn into the side of a fissure, they descended deeper and deeper until suddenly the cleft opened out into an immense cavern which was so large the torchlight couldn’t reach the walls or the ceiling. Dastan found it disorientating to walk through such a huge space, hearing the sound of flowing water and the echoes of their passing, surrounded by darkness and totally dependent on their faint circle of torchlight.

At the other end, the way was obstructed by another deep chasm. “We climb down further from here,” Tamina said, her voice echoing strangely. “There is a stair of sorts but it is worn and broken in places so ropes have been anchored in the stone to aid our descent.”

The stair ended at a long passageway with a carved arch at both ends. There were holders for torches on the wall, but Tamina passed them by. Instead she reached down to light an oil lamp at the far end. Dastan saw through the arch an almost perfectly round chamber with a fire pit in the middle, couches and a large bed set around it. 

Handing him the oil lamp, Tamina requested, “Light a fire?”

The wood caught quickly and as he warmed himself, Dastan watched her. The first thing she did was to hide the dagger together with the heavy necklace she wore under a slab of stone near the wall. He looked more closely at the crystal hanging from the chain and realized it must contain more sand. Then she went to rummage in a trunk near the wall, pulling out men’s clothing. Tamina paused, holding a linen shirt in her hands and brought it to her face, inhaling deeply.

“A loved one?” 

“My father’s,” Tamina replied softly. “I remember my mother making it for him. She didn’t often have time for such wifely tasks. He appreciated it very much.” 

Putting it aside she found another for him, a light damask coat and trousers made of soft leather. For herself she donned a cloak lined with fur and sighed when she wrapped herself up. “I’m so cold.”  

Dastan peeled off his armour and changed quickly; they were a bit tight but fit well enough. As Tamina took his wet clothes to hang on a drying frame by the fire, he commented, “All of this was not brought through the pool.”

“No.” She pointed to a dark shadow in the distance. “There is a more accessible passage that leads back up to a tower in the city wall. I usually come and go that way, but the pool is much more discreet.”

“And risky. I’d hate to swim that in the dark like you did.”

Tamina shrugged. “I’ve had practice.”

Dastan continued to look around with curiously and could see another opening at the other side of the room. 

“That way leads to the ancient city. I must show you something there.” 

“Not another mystical wonder,” he grumbled.

“I’m afraid so.”

“When you spoke of a refuge I assumed you meant an easily defended room in the palace. With enough food you could hide here for months.”

“Yes, this place was probably a guard post for the old city. There are remnants of wooden gates at both passageways but the road outside is blocked now. In any case, there is fresh water, good ventilation and even a decent privy. I come down here every few weeks to be by myself, to be myself. I like going to the big cavern above us to curse and scream until I feel better,” she admitted ruefully.

Tamina shook out her sodden tresses and said somewhat reluctantly, “We should go, I need to begin my tale, it will take some time to tell.” 

She picked up her lantern, lighting another for him and they entered the gloomy tunnel that led to the old city.

“I’ll start by telling you the founding myth of our religion. Only it is not a myth, it is true.” And she told him of the first guardian and the Sands of Time. “I am a direct descendant of her, The Guardian, though we name the position High Priestess now. You heard me speak of the other guardians; you’ve already met some of them, Captain Asoka and Lady Ravan. We are all successors, the heirs of those who came before us. But sometimes an outsider has been named a guardian, like my father.”

As she spoke they wandered through the wide streets of a once beautiful city, ghostly outlines of yellow stone buildings around them on either side. He was surprised how well-preserved it looked, as if the people had only just abandoned it. Tamina turned to a grand structure, obviously a temple. As they entered, Dastan saw a golden light before them, a warm glowing radiance, but not from the sun. They walked out onto a wide platform extending over a cavernous void and he looked in awe at the twisting column of crystal flame towering above them, pulsing with terrifying power.

“The Sandglass of The Gods looks impregnable doesn’t it?” she said quietly. “But the dagger can penetrate it, causing it to crack and shatter, releasing the Sands of Time to consume the world.”

“What happens if the jewel is pushed?”

“The right question Dastan! If the dagger is opened, the sands run through it and time is reversed. Before the glass shatters and the world ends. Yesterday, a very few hours before you met me outside the city gate, you and I fought your uncle here. Together we prevented the destruction of mankind.” Dastan inhaled sharply. “We were too late to stop him plunging the dagger in, but you let him push you off into the abyss and took him with you.”

Tamina’s voice broke. “After you fell, I pulled the dagger free and found myself back in the High Temple, watching your army approaching. I am the only one who remembers and I will tell you all of it. But first I must remind you of your father’s favorite story of brotherly love; how Nizam saved him from a lion when they were boys.”

She let it sink in and Dastan groaned and covered his eyes. _It all made sense._

“Nizam would be king for a lifetime and my brothers would never be born,” he murmured, voice broken and full of pain.

He believed her and it broke his heart. As his mind raced, every look, everything she had said and done took on a new meaning. _She trusts me because she knows me._

“How... how long?” he stammered.

“Three weeks. We were together for three weeks, fighting each other, fighting for the truth, for our lives, fighting to save the world.” Tamina took his hand. “Let’s go back,” glancing again at the place Dastan had fallen in the other time, shuddering.

As they left, Tamina said, “These catacombs are extensive and complex and I also brought you here to bear witness to your brothers that there are no forges down here. I intend to bury the sandglass to keep it safe. Even if Nizam gets the dagger he won’t be able to use it as he intended.”

“Didn’t you do that before?”

“Yes, but you had conquered Alamut by force and occupation. Tus needed to find the forges to placate your father and dug down to the sandglass under Nizam’s direction. He knew where to look. It gave us time though. But I should start at the beginning.”

Dastan made no comment about his success taking the Eastern Gates except a quiet humph. And he cringed when Tamina told him how Tus had forced her into a betrothal. When she came to the death of his father, Tamina stopped in the middle of the wide avenue and took both his hands. Dastan braced himself but was still staggered by the horror of it. She left nothing out, he needed to hear the terrible details. Dastan made not a sound but drew her close, holding her tightly, trying to control the pain and shock he felt. After a time he loosened his grip and she continued.

“That night was the first time I tried to kill you to get the dagger back.”

“The first time!” he burst out making her smile smugly.

“When we finally stopped for the night, I attacked you with a sword I found in Aksh’s saddlebag. In the struggle, you triggered the dagger by chance and discovered what I really didn’t want you to know. You must have gone back at least three times before you could believe it because when you took the sword from me, the sand in the dagger’s hilt was gone. From then on you saw me as your enemy and reasoned correctly that the dagger was at the center of it all. But you suspected Tus. You were intent on using the dagger to prove your innocence to your uncle. As for me, even though you couldn’t wait to be rid of me, I used your grudging gallantry to talk you out of leaving me behind.”

When they reached the portal that connected the old city with the entrance tunnel, Tamina stopped. “I can release the sands from here. Any objection?” Dastan shook his head and watched with interest as she reached behind a decorative pillar and pulled a simple stone lever. A solid wooden gate lowered from within the portal arch, sealing the way. There was no thunder of rushing sands, only a soft whooshing noise, like the flow of a river over a waterfall. 

“The sandglass chamber and most of the catacombs will be buried in a few hours,” she explained.

Tamina waited until they returned to the old guard room before continuing, first pausing to reignite the fire and collect some water from a small cistern carved in the wall. 

“You needed to go to Avrat to show the dagger to your uncle, to get his help and the shortest way was through the Valley of the Slaves.” Dastan grunted, realizing how desperate he must have been to go that way. “I tricked you by pretending to faint in the heat and when you came to help me, I knocked you unconscious with a bone.”

“And you had no qualms about leaving me to die did you?” he asked dryly.

Tamina just shrugged. “The dagger’s safety is my sacred duty. But you repaid me soon after. I’m not very clear on this part, you refused to speak of it later, even when we became allies. The basic facts are that Sheik Amar, who controls the Valley, caught you and you sold me to him to save your own skin.” Tamina’s tone had hardened; she was still angry about it.

Dastan had the strange sensation of flushing with shame at something he didn’t actually do. “Uh, I apologize, Princess.” Then his brash nature resurfaced. “It won’t happen again,” he smirked.

Tamina tried not to smile, but failed. “I suppose, after attacking you twice, you felt no obligation to keep me out of trouble,” she conceded. Tamina told him about the den of iniquity Amar had established, his formidable bodyguard Seso and the ostrich races.

“Did they hurt you?” he asked softly, imagining the worst as guilt returned to him.

“No actually, only my pride. He put me to work as an ostrich girl. My task was to offer refreshment and distract the spectators between races. The costume was hideous and so were the drinks.”

Dastan’s eyes began to dance and she smiled knowingly at him. “I could tell you were enjoying yourself there. Unfortunately, Amar recognized you and had heard about the price on your head.”

“A bounty?” he asked curiously. “How much?”

Tamina snorted. “Enough apparently. Anyway, I was tired of being pawed by drunk and grubby men so I started a riot and we ran again.”

Tamina didn’t tell him much about their endless, uncomfortable journey. The scorching heat, cold nights, hunger and thirst that they endured. For one thing, she was sure he didn’t experience the hardships to the same degree she had. _Spoiled, pampered princess that I am._ And she was reluctant to admit how his solid, annoying presence made it all so much more bearable and often rather fun. How sleeping next to him on a bedroll under a starry sky began to feel romantic.

They took a short break to eat from the stores of preserved food before she told him about Avrat and his uncle. She could only repeat the short version he had related to her later. Except for her stealing the dagger literally behind his back which she was rather proud of.

“Of course you caught up with me the next morning. The burns on your uncle’s hands convinced you he was behind it, but you could not understand why. A sandstorm came suddenly and we sheltered together in a tiny tent and I told you about the Sands of Time and you told me about the lion. So there it was. We knew the truth and from that moment you became the hero of our story.”

Dastan looked at her with doubt on his face. “A hero was I? Not my usual style,” he mumbled self-deprecatingly.

“I think your family would disagree. I certainly do,” she said earnestly, squeezing his hand briefly.

She remembered the feeling she had in the tent, finally able to share her secrets with him. For the first time since her father died she hadn’t felt alone. Dastan was astonished by the tenderness that washed over her face as she smiled at him. But then she put her guard back up and continued with the account.

One blow after another. Amar and Seso catching them, the snake attack, finding everyone dead at the mountain temple, the hassansins, losing the dagger. And Garsiv. Dastan stared into the fire, almost numb. 

Tamina’s quiet voice reached through to him. “You told me Garsiv believed you but he was killed soon after. His last act was to save your life.”  

Tamina left him to his thoughts and unpacked more food for their evening meal. Deciding to warm a stew and make flatbread, she set a cooking pot and a spider pan into the fire.  

“Is there any wine?” Dastan asked with a heavy sigh. Tamina pointed to an amphora tucked behind the food stores. With a full cup in hand, Dastan sat back down beside her and took over stirring the stew. “How much more is there?” he murmured.

Tamina knew what he was asking. “We lost Seso. And Tus,” she told him gently. Dastan’s only comment was a curse.

Later, they sat on the bed, one at either end, leaning on thick cushions while Tamina told him the rest. When it was over, she waited to answer questions he must have but Dastan was quiet. It had been exhausting to relive it all, to see the horror on his face, and she unwillingly drifted into sleep. Dastan struggled with the emotional turmoil he was feeling, shock over the loss of his family and overwhelming relief that they all still lived. Sick at heart for what his uncle had done to them and was still trying to do.

And Tamina. He was aware that she’d been purposefully vague at various places in her narrative. Something had happened between them and he was curious, even though he realized he should probably leave it alone. _Could we have fallen in love in the middle of all that turmoil?_

Dastan carefully moved up to her end of the bed, laying down next to her. He studied her beautiful face, unconsciously playing with a lock of her dark hair, marveling at her perfection. 

“Tamina.” He leant down to whisper in her ear, “Do you love me?”

“Hmmm,” she murmured, turning to snuggle into him.

“Tamina, do you love me?” he stroked her back, coaxing an answer out of her.

“Yes, yes Dastan,” she muttered irritably. “Let me sleep.” He smiled, kissing her brow and the corner of her mouth. Her eyes snapped open to see him hovering above her.

“What?” she exclaimed in a breathless gasp. She sat up quickly, backing away from him, crossing her arms defensively. “Why.”

He shrugged. “You were evasive now and then, leaving out personal details I think. Did I fall in love with you?”

She turned her face away but glared at him from under her lashes, uncertain how to respond. “I can’t speak for you… I mean him. We never spoke openly of our feelings.”

“Did we show affection for one another then?” he persisted.

“Delicately put,” she sneered. “But no. At the end we shared a brief kiss which felt full of regret. That was all.”

Dastan considered her, feeling like she was withholding an essential truth from him and pushed her further. “In the guardian temple, what really happened?” But she was still reluctant to tell him of the Guardian's covenant. He did not take it well the last time.

“Tamina…” his low voice warned.

“Oh all right!” she snapped. “Seeing everyone dead, I went into the temple intending to return the dagger to the Gods by placing it back in the stone of the mountain from which it came. In doing so, I would also have paid for the life that was spared, the first guardian’s life… with my own.”

Dastan inhaled sharply, chilled to the bone. She had been raised with this hanging over her head. He was appalled and had very likely felt that way before. 

“I was probably relieved the hassansins took the cursed knife from you,” he said darkly.

Tamina lifted her chin in defiance. “You interfered with my duty, tried to talk me out of it, asked to do it in my place. I was crushed by my failure, that I hesitated because of a man, because I wanted to feel your kiss before I died.” 

She got up and turned her back on him, wishing she could walk away, or better yet, to demand that he get out of her sight like a real queen. She felt Dastan come stand behind her.

“But you looked at me with that crazy confidence of yours and assured me that we would get the dagger back. And we did. Because Seso gave his life for it. And don’t forget that you deliberately took your uncle with you into the abyss. That is what you warriors do. Coldly look death in the face. And so do I,” she declared, her voice hard and uncompromising.

 _She is Ishtar after all._ Dastan slid his arms around her waist, drawing her back against him. “I’m sorry Tamina,” he murmured.

And she knew that finally he understood. She turned in his arms and sighed in the comfort of his embrace. They went to sit by the fire and he was ready to ask more questions. Many hours passed before they slept, holding hands.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He lifted his hand and drew it over her brow and down her cheek, his thumb sweeping over her lips. Dastan was undergoing a bitter internal struggle. He wanted to make love to her, but was not free to do so. He had no right. More than that, he had no indication from her that she wanted him rather than the other Dastan who she had suffered and triumphed with. Who she had loved. He realized with chagrin that he was actually jealous of himself.

When Tamina and Dastan left the Persian camp, Tus and Garsiv exchanged a dark look but did not discuss at length what Tamina had told them. Both agreed that _maybe_ they had been given false information, that she and her ‘precious’ relic _might_ be under threat. _Hassansins._ Well they would believe it when they saw one. They did not even discuss her allegation about their uncle, it was too preposterous for words.

They went about their business, looking for evidence of the forges, albeit in a halfhearted way. The princess had been persuasive, _damn her._ Mostly because Dastan seemed to believe her. Tus did write to the king, explaining the situation and asking him not to come because of the _slight_ possibility that hassansins were in the area; to stay away until they knew for certain it was safe.

But mostly they waited, Tus fingering his worry beads and Garsiv muttering to himself. Both fearing something would happen even as they told themselves it was all nonsense or some kind of ploy. And their uncle did not return, not until the next morning.

“I cannot find them!" Nizam exclaimed. “I don’t understand it, I did not give them leave to go.”

“Princess Tamina seems to think it was all a ruse to steal some religious trinket,” Tus said, frowning.

“Oh?” he said smoothly even as his heart missed a beat, not liking the idea she'd talked to them. “That would explain my men going missing if they were acting for another’s benefit. This will mean their death when I catch them. Are you sure the princess tells the truth? Where is she? Perhaps if I spoke with her...”

Tus and Garsiv shared a look. Their uncle spoke lightly, but they both knew he was ruthless. Was he really asking them to turn over Princess Tamina for questioning?

Before Tus could answer, Bis came into the royal tent, his face grim. “I was looking for Dastan and found this in his tent.” He held up a sharp instrument that looked something between a dart and a knife.

Garsiv swore violently. “She did warn us,” he muttered to Tus under his breath.

“Looking closer, I found other signs of an attack. Slashed bedding, cuts to the tent flap. Where is he? Have he and the princess been taken?”

Tus and Garsiv exchanged another sharp look before Tus answered, “Dastan went with her to a safe place in the mountains.”

Almost against his will, Garsiv watched his uncle’s reaction. The princess’ accusation had gotten into his mind like an insidious worm. _Malicious bitch._ His uncle’s expression was always hard to read but Garsiv saw a flash of something that could have been smug satisfaction.

Bis went on, “Whoever it was took the time to pick up after themselves. And they got in and out of our camp without us knowing.”

Tus paused, noticing Garsiv’s frown. “Worrisome,” he said, keeping his voice casual with an effort. “Increase the perimeter guards. But if they, whoever they are, wanted to take the princess they know now she isn’t here. I’m glad she and Dastan went somewhere safe.”

Nizam said, “Perhaps it was her own people trying to free her.”

The princes didn’t really believe it but nodded their agreement, feeling uneasy with the way their uncle was acting. And they did not mention the hassansins.

\---

When Tamina woke again, feeling cold, she built up the fire and found Dastan watching her when she turned. “Are you hungry?” At his nod she brought leftover bread and some dried fruit and nuts to their bed.

“The situation is quite different from last time, you've seen to that,” he said, picking up their conversation where they left off. “Well done by the way,” giving her a wink. “What do you plan to do now?”

“I really couldn’t see beyond convincing you to help me again.”

“We have the dagger, the sandglass is beyond reach and hopefully the hassansins are getting picked off one by one. But my father and brothers must be convinced of Nizam’s guilt or we’ll have that viper at the heart of the empire until he dies. And he might sell your secrets to someone else to get another opportunity.”

“At the end I saw how his hatred boiled just under the surface; it might be possible to goad him into a rage. If he lashes out in violence in front of your brothers…”  

“My father will still find it impossible to believe unless he sees it for himself, but I don’t want the king anywhere near him.”

“Yes, his malice is insidious. I could see Nizam murdering you all just for spite. We can’t plan anything, only see what the situation is when we return.”

“Why do you want to stay here so long?”

Tamina regarded him. She had a good reason but also a selfish reason. To have a last chance to be alone with him. _Do I dare? Well I’m not afraid to look death in the face, why not life?_ But after a long pause she found she lacked the courage to ask Dastan openly for what she wanted, falling back on explaining the snare she’d set.

“An attack on the guardian temple will take some time for your uncle to arrange. I would expect it tonight or tomorrow. I don’t want to distract him from falling into the trap by showing my face too soon.”

Dastan nodded, accepting her answer. But he felt on edge. The horror of the erased time was fading and he was becoming more and more aware of being completely alone with her. 

He tried to make light of their intimate situation. “I suppose you’ve heard all my stories already, how will we pass the time?” and he couldn’t help the playful leer that crossed over his face.

Instead of getting huffy as he expected, Tamina gave him a winsome smile. “When we actually got along, there was not much time or privacy for confidences. I would like to hear your stories.”

“All right, we’ll take turns. You go first.”

“Dastan, except for recent events, my life has been very restrictive. I’m sure you’ll find it too dull for words.”

“You let me be the judge. Tell me about your parents,” he encouraged gently. So she did.

Listening to her, he heard deep love and respect for her mother but a childhood that was crushed under the weight of the responsibility she would inherit. Emotional control, leadership, diplomacy, self-reliance.

“My father did his best to let me be a child once in a while but the expectations placed on my mother and I were much more rigid then. She died when I was 12 and I became High Priestess. I couldn’t even really mourn her because it was her destiny to leave me too soon. So I left what little childhood I had behind, my father became Regent and I ruled with his guidance. Then he was murdered when I was 16. I have been alone since he died.”

She looked at Dastan and saw the stark pity on his face, that he wanted to convey his empathy but couldn’t find the words. “You don’t have to say anything. You've also been alone, without a family. I know you understand.”

He took her hand and asked instead, “You said the life of the High Priestess used to be more restrictive, what did you mean?”

“We spent a lot of time in ritual, prayer and devotion toward the Gods. Maybe it was my rebellious nature, but I could never understand why. The first guardian gave a true account of them. _‘They looked down on me and laughed.’_ The Gods don’t love us, they only need us to guard the Sands of Time. Our covenant with them is purely duty and obedience. I have been quietly subverting the ritual, prayer and personal devotion aspects of life here and have not had any complaints from the Gods.”

“Complaints?”

“The High Priestess receives dreams or visions when we stray too far from our path. Dastan, I know you don’t believe in destiny and for most of mankind that may be true. I don't think the Gods could care less. In fact, they seem intent on letting us follow our natural tendencies, for good or evil. But in Alamut, we must heed them or risk the world. Because of your involvement with the Sands, the Gods must have shaped your fate to some extent as well.” This time Dastan didn’t argue.

“Ugh.” She lay down on the bed with a hand over her eyes. “I’m tired of talking about this. It’s your turn, make me laugh.”

Her story had been too joyless to ignore and he didn’t want to. “I can’t seem to think of an amusing one,” he said quietly, a tender sadness on his face. He shifted to her end and lay down beside her.

She let her hand fall away to look at him, touched by his obvious sympathy. “I warned you, depressing and dull.”

“No, not dull. Tragic, unfair, cruel... heartbreaking.”

He lifted his hand and drew it over her brow and down her cheek, his thumb sweeping over her lips. Dastan was undergoing a bitter internal struggle. He wanted to make love to her, but was not free to do so. He had no right. More than that, he had no indication from her that she wanted him rather than the other Dastan who she had suffered and triumphed with. Who she had loved. He realized with chagrin that he was actually jealous of himself.

She was enthralled by the intensity of his gaze, holding her breath, hoping for more. With an effort Tamina found her voice, “I lied to you before. I do want your lovely eyes caressing me. And your hands and your mouth. I want you. All that you can give.” And she couldn't help the bitter thought, _before it’s too late._

Dastan groaned and rested his forehead against hers, feeling her short breaths on his face and the pulse of her heart beating wildly under his hand.

“Why?” He had to say it. “I’m not him am I?”

“No. But he hid things from me. You were not truly yourself before.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He never swore in front of me,” she said, as if that explained everything. Dastan raised a questioning brow, amused, and Tamina humphed and tried again.

“He never touched me with passion. When he became my ally, even though he teased and goaded me, he treated me like I was made of glass. Caring, protective. He loved me, but it was innocent and undemanding.”

“You were the only thing I had left to lose!” Dastan found himself coming to his own defense. “I was probably trying to be the kind of man you deserve,” he muttered.

Tamina sighed, frustrated with him. “You have not suffered the loss of your family, you are still whole, as you were meant to be.” She held his face between her hands, brushing her thumbs over his cheekbones, following the curve of his crescent shaped scar. 

“Putting aside his heroic accomplishments and saving the world, which I am very grateful for, if I had to choose, I would choose you. You are more… more real.”

Dastan almost said,  _How could you choose me when he loved you and I don’t?_ But with blinding clarity he knew it was not true. The certainty washed over him, filling his mind and heart. A terrifying, wonderful, joyful ache. _Gods below, how could it have happened so unexpectedly, so suddenly._

He collapsed next to her, holding her tightly, face buried in her neck, breathing her in. He tried to think back, to find the precise moment. When she plunged the dagger in her heart, he felt his own heart stop. When he kissed her he was already fighting the overwhelming desire he felt for her.

No, it was when she had stood so regally before them at the city gate, looking up at him with possessive expectation, holding out her hand. A goddess - beautiful, imperious, magnificent. Calling him by his name. _Him._ Giving him her hand as if to say _'Here I am, the woman who was made for you. Take me.'_ His destiny demanding to be accepted.

Tamina was abashed by his silence. “Dastan? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to… to dishonor yourself. I just wanted to be with you before one of us was killed or you’d have to leave me. To have a memory, a truth to hold onto.”

“Shhh.” He touched her mouth gently, feather-light. His hand was shaking. “When a man’s life gets turned upside-down he needs a moment to adjust.”

“What does that mean?” she asked huffily against his fingers.

He grinned at how she could turn from sweetly apologetic to annoyed in the blink of an eye. Dastan raised himself on an elbow to look down at her, a half-smile on his lips, tender sincerity in his eyes.

“It means I love you Tamina.”        

Her mouth fell open. “Finally at a loss for words?” he teased gently. “And before you spout out a ridiculous objection like I only think it’s love because you told me I loved you before - my fate hit me in the gut when I met you, I only just realized it.”

“But you don’t believe in fate,” she whispered.

“I can change my mind can’t I?”

He kissed her softly, rubbing his nose against hers sweetly and sat up, pulling her with him, gazing at her with something like wonder. Her dark eyes shining with love and longing, she waited to see how many of his own rules he was willing to break for her.

Slowly, he lifted his hands and pushed the fur cloak from her shoulders, carefully pulling the ties of her simple shift apart and drew it over her head. Exposing her completely to his burning gaze as his eyes swept over her, lowering to her full breasts. 

He exhaled a small sigh of appreciation. “You are so beautiful Tamina,” he whispered, pulling her to him again. 

Tamina’s own passion took over. Wrapping her arms tightly around him, her tongue slid in to meet his, causing a jolt in the pit of his stomach. The kiss became more and more wild, lips swollen, Tamina moaning into his mouth. He knew he should try to slow down, but she was tugging at his shirt, demanding closer contact and Dastan was swiftly getting lost in her. He dragged himself away, hurriedly removing it and the rest of his clothes. Tamina watched him eagerly, her eyes widening when she saw the size of him, her brow arched in an unspoken question.

“This is how the Gods made us,” he assured her.

“Are all men so well-endowed?” she asked in candid innocence. Dastan flushed, shrugging modestly.

“I think not,” she teased and held out her arms.

Tamina knelt on the bed to embrace him, her face buried in his neck, relishing his hard warmth and earthy scent. She squirmed restlessly, rubbing her breasts and belly against him, reveling in the friction of his chest-hair against her taut nipples and his hardness wedged between them. Dastan groaned. He had to take charge before he completely lost control. When he pulled away, his heart racing and breathing ragged, Tamina whined his name in protest. He couldn’t help giving her a wicked smile, crowding her playfully to make her lie down.

Dastan caressed her with his large hands, fingers splayed around her neck, holding her still for another deep kiss before moving down to cup a breast. He moaned as he felt her, heavy and full in his hand, squeezing when she arched into him. She kissed his jaw, his chin, the corner of his mouth, the scar on his cheek as he took her other breast. Nothing could prepare him for the warm weight of her, for the way she curved into his touch, for the breathy little gasps she made as he thumbed her nipples. He leant over her, devouring her mouth before kissing down her neck, murmuring soft words of love, tongue and lips tasting her and Tamina couldn’t believe she could be more aroused.

Until his lips found her breasts. His warm mouth and perfect hands, touching her like he wanted to memorize every inch of her body. She melted with pleasure and tangled her fingers in his hair as he slowly let a hand glide down her body, caressing her stomach, her hip, her thigh, moving ever inwards. Finally reaching her wet folds, he carefully slid a finger into her warmth and she whimpered, arching with want into his hand, pleading without words for more. He pushed a second finger in, cupping her mound, rubbing her bud in small circles with his thumb and all at once she came apart in his hands. Her whole body trembled as her walls clenched around his fingers and she cried out in surprise.

Dastan waited, hand moving lazily, fingers still inside her until she came back to herself, watching her with gratified admiration. She was spectacular. He opened her more fully to him, using his fingers to stretch her and she gasped, feeling another flood of heat wash over her. His wet and demanding mouth moved down her body and delved into her folds, tongue sweeping up to find her pearl, swirling over it and she moaned and writhed, arching and bucking until he held her down with his free hand spread wide over her hip. She felt the almost unbearable tension building again and tightly clasped his hand holding her still, their fingers twining together and moaned his name as she came undone again.   

Dastan lazily nuzzled her thigh and caressed her stomach. He knew what she asked of him and wanted to give it to her, but he had to be certain. 

“Are you sure?” he asked with an unsteady voice.

“Yes. I am yours and you are mine,” she answered simply.

Dastan, eyes dark with passion looked up at her. _His goddess, his queen... his._ She was so wet, he had no fear that he would hurt her. He moved to hover over her, his velvet hardness pushing against her insistently, rubbing through her wet folds and entered her slowly. And they both held their breath. He pushed into her gently, their eyes locked together, wanting to savor this moment, the first and maybe the only time. When he filled her completely, Dastan waited for her to get used to him and partly rested his body on hers, leaning down for a tender kiss. Tamina relished the unbelievable stretched fullness she felt and the satisfying weight of him covering her, how his body shuddered slightly in reaction and the twitches she felt from him inside her as he tried not to move.

Between slow, deep kisses Dastan murmured, “Are you all right?”

“Ummm,” was all she could manage and smiled smugly at him, making him grin briefly. But then he moved, pulled out half-way and back in again and again and she gasped with the sweet ache of it, tentatively arching her hips to meet him. His body rubbed along her breasts and her pleasure point and she was soon joining in his rhythm, lifting her legs up to draw him in deeper, writhing underneath him, moaning his name.

“More, please more...” she begged, looking up into his face, his expression almost harsh with controlled concentration.  

“Princess, my princess,” Dastan whispered, using her title in adoration, his eyes full of devotion. 

Dastan rose up on his knees, pulling her hips with him. Drawing her legs over his arms, he drove into her hard with a deliberate, steady rhythm. He was afraid of looking down at their bodies, knew if he saw her beautifully naked under him, saw himself plunging into her, he might not be able to hold back. But he couldn’t help himself.

“You’re perfect. You were made for me weren’t you? Made for me to fill you up, so tight and wet. Look at you,” he muttered hoarsely between the soft grunts he made as he thrust into her. “Luscious. I want to devour you.”

Dastan heard her choked cry and looked up. He hadn’t realized he’d been speaking aloud, letting such indecent, lustful thoughts escape. He blinked at Tamina, worried she was shocked or disgusted by his coarse words. She gazed back at him, biting on her quivering lower lip, sultry and wanton and began to quake and tremble under him.

“Don’t stop…” she moaned.

“That’s it my love, let me watch you shatter around me. Beautiful, so beautiful…”

“Yes, yes Dastan!” she sobbed as her climax washed over her, a euphoria almost too sweet to bear that went on and on and on. When Dastan felt her pulsating around him he almost came undone with her, but forced himself to hold on, giving her the force and strength of his body, giving her as much pleasure as possible.

She melted under him, Dastan moving with gentle, shallow thrusts and gathered her close to him, stroking her wherever he could reach. Hand through her hair, down her back, over her hip. All the while whispering words of admiration and love.

Until he looked down to find tears streaking her face and froze. “Tamina, did I hurt you?” he cried urgently.

“No, no, only tears of joy. It was wonderful, you are wonderful,” Tamina assured him. “I love you so much.”

Dastan laughed in relief and began to draw carefully out of her but couldn’t prevent the groan that escaped from deep in his chest at the feeling of her tight wetness clinging to his now unbearable arousal. He knew if he didn't pull out now, it would be too late.

“Dastan? Wait, don’t go.” Tamina moaned at the delicious friction. “You still feel so large inside me, is that normal?”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at her innocent question, realizing she could probably come again, but there was no way he’d survive it.

“I can’t finish inside you, love.”

She sought his eyes, alert and searching. “You fear making me pregnant?” 

Dastan nodded, nosing her cheek as he pulled out completely, both of them trembling at the loss.

“What if... what if I want your child?” she asked carefully.

Dastan sat back on his heels, staring at her, stunned by her question, trying to figure out how he felt about it. He thought about Tamina’s position. She was in effect a king, able to have children at will, to make them legitimate, to name them her heirs. Only the rules of their society argued against it and those rules didn’t apply to her.

She loved him and wanted his child. But he feared that he might not be able to be a real father, to be there as the baby grew up. _Is that a good enough reason to deny her?_

Dastan came to her again, cradling her face in his hands to kiss her sweetly, murmuring “Yes Tamina, yes” into her mouth as he entered her again. The pace he set was unhurried, deep thrusts that ended with an exquisite twist of his hips, grinding into her. Slow and tender, he brought them to the peak again.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded. And when her hand snaked between them to do as he asked she felt him spasm, felt a gush as he spilled himself inside her and heard him half shout and half laugh with elation. And she burst apart again, following him into bliss.

—-

After a long time she rose on one elbow to look down at him as he lay, spent and satisfied, next to her. “I had no idea making love would be like that. I felt we were one being, just us alone in the world, soaring together through heaven.”

Dastan nodded. “For me as well, my love. I have never felt so close to anyone before.”

“Never? But you are so...skillful. Surely you have been in love before.”

Dastan flushed. “Experienced maybe. At the age of 16, I was given lessons.” Tamina’s mouth dropped open.

Enjoying her scandalized shock he went on, “Yes, my princely education was very thorough. I think the idea is, keeping your wives happy in the bedchamber leads to a more tranquil life.”

He got up to fetch a towel and tenderly cleaned her juices and his from her thighs.

“Did you fall in love with her?” Tamina asked somewhat hesitantly as she watched his bowed head, dark hair falling over his brow, his hands sliding so intimately over her body. He glanced up at her with a wicked grin and that flash of blue which always made her feel uncharacteristically giddy.

“I had various instructors for different...techniques,” he said with a smirk.

Tamina couldn’t help rolling her eyes. More seriously, he answered her question. 

“There was one girl named Bahar, she was closer to my age and very beautiful. I was infatuated and confused it with love. When my lessons came to an end, I threw a fit, declaring I would love her forever and she explained the difference to me. She told me I could not love her because I didn’t really know her, only her body. And of course she was right. I wanted to spend time with her, to get to know her but she was quickly married off to one of my father’s generals.”

“Did she want to be married off?”

“I don’t know,” said Dastan sadly. “I looked for her later, to check up on her. The general had died some time before and she had three sons, her own household and was planning to marry a physician. At least she could choose for herself the second time. She was the closest I came to being in love, but like I said it wasn’t real. And I quickly learned to be suspicious of the women at court. Even when I was away from home and had more freedom to be myself instead of a prince, I was always very careful not to get too involved.”

Tamina leant down to kiss him, not daring to speak of a future together even though she wanted it more than anything. 

“What you have given me is more than I ever expected or even hoped for.” She admitted, snuggling into him. “It is more than happiness. I feel content… fulfilled.”

“Yes,” Dastan answered, kissing her brow. “At peace finally with who and what I am. The man who loves you.” 

He wanted to tell her she would never be alone again but the words stuck in his throat. He couldn’t promise her anything. Not yet.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dastan joined her then and handed one of the lanterns to her. “What is it?” he asked, concerned.  
> She attempted a casual shrug. “This place won’t be the same without you.”  
> Dastan took her hand and kissed it. “Try not to dwell on the future before going into battle” hoping his advice would help. She nodded, looking into his eyes, and he could see steely resolve cloak her like a shield, a grim smile on her lips.

After coming to the palace to inform Asoka and Ravan they were giving up the search, the Persians spoke among themselves, completely ignoring them. 

“Why did you urge my brother, our king, not to come?” Nizan asked his nephews in mild surprise. “I know he has always wanted to visit Alamut.”

Squirming slightly at his implied reproach, Tus responded, “Our search is over, we’ll be leaving shortly. We've found nothing so the information was indeed false. Pity the spies could not be found to explain the reason behind their treachery.”

“I agree, a great pity,” Nizam said placidly. “I have spoken to their superiors but can find nothing suspicious. Have you searched the catacombs?” he inquired nonchalantly. 

Asoka and Ravan shared a worried look.

“What catacombs?” Garsiv asked sharply.

“Oh, I asked someone about the history of Alamut and they mentioned that the ancient city below us is almost completely intact.” 

Garsiv turned to scowl at Ravan. “Why were we not told of the catacombs?” he barked.

“They are not safe and are therefore forbidden,” Ravan began, thinking quickly, concealing her irritation at his tone of voice with an effort. _Irascible man._ “However, we should have realized it would be of interest to you. Captain Asoka will take you and your men down to inspect them," she offered smoothly.

“I will see to this,” Garsiv muttered, glancing at Tus. His gut told him they were being manipulated but he wasn’t completely sure and hoped Tus would tread carefully.

When Garsiv and Asoka left together, the captain of the guard spoke softly, “Highness, I have information to impart but did not want to speak so freely.”

Garsiv frowned. “In front of my uncle you mean?” he scoffed, just managing to bite back a rebuke. 

Asoka paused then nodded. “Princess Tamina and Prince Dastan did not leave the city as she told you. It was a ruse to encourage the hassansins to strike elsewhere. They attacked yesterday. We killed three of them, two escaped. You can examine the corpses if you wish, they are in the north tower.”

Garsiv doubted they were really hassansins, but agreed to follow Asoka anyway. Entering the room, they viewed the bodies with disgust. _They had probably looked just as dead when they were alive,_ Garsiv thought.

Without being asked, Asoka reported, “The younger one just used swords and spears but was very skilled. That one threw the exploding devices, but was easy enough to kill when we got close enough. The third wielded that armoured claw over there on the table. With them was the traitor priest and the spike thrower, but they both escaped.”

Asoka held up a deadly dart, it was exactly like the one Bis had found. 

“The spikes did the most damage. The device he wore shot the daggers with incredible force; they easily penetrated our armour.”

Garsiv turned to look at Asoka steadily, “How many did you lose?”

Asoka grimaced. “Sixteen. Thirty are wounded.” Garsiv swore under his breath. Their horrific reputation was well founded.

Asoka paused before giving his next bit of news. “Highness, Prince Dastan and Princess Tamina are in the catacombs. There is a secret refuge for the monarch down there but I know not where. She wanted to show the old city to him as proof of our veracity before releasing a flood of sand to fill it in.”

“Another sacred relic needing protection?” Garsiv asked sarcastically.

Asoka could only nod. “The mechanism that unleashes the sands was triggered two days ago so I cannot take you there now. But they should return sometime today, I will inform you or Prince Tus when they reappear so you may speak with your brother in private.” 

Garsiv grudgingly nodded his agreement but was annoyed he and Tus had been kept in the dark. Asoka bowed his head, requesting to be dismissed.

As he walked back to join Tus, Garsiv clenched a fist at his side, emotions reeling. Nizam had been told to disband the hassansins and the proof of their continued existence dented his faith in their uncle whether he wanted it to or not. Because the king’s command would have been interpreted by his ruthless brother as an execution order. Nizam should have quietly disposed of them. And he didn’t.

Tamina and her people’s sole focus was on Nizam. But the question was why. He hoped Dastan had learned something useful from the princess. They were flailing around in the dark.

\---

Tamina still lay in Dastan’s arms listening to the sound of his heart steadily beating, but couldn’t ignore their duty any longer. “We need to go back,” she sighed unhappily.

“I know. I can’t help worrying about my family.”

Tamina looked over her shoulder at the place the dagger was hidden. “I think I will leave it here,” she said, not needing to explain what she meant. “I want it as far out of his reach as possible.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t bring it down here last time,” Dastan remarked. “We never would have found it.”

“I think Nizam would have gotten here eventually. Once the catacombs were clear of sand all ways lead to this chamber. But at the time it didn’t even occur to me. We have an effective plan of action to follow but no one ever thought we'd be betrayed by one of our own. A traitor who knew we would run immediately to the mountain temple. But now this is the safest place for it. If… if I can’t retrieve the dagger later, will you bring Lady Ravan here? She is my successor.”

Dastan wanted to argue but nodded shortly instead. She gave him a quick kiss, covered herself with her nightshift and rose from the bed. He watched as she began unpacking a large trunk, pulling out various weapons and inspecting their condition since they had obviously been stored for a long time. Tamina opened another trunk and gave a happy gasp when she discovered a lute inside, wrapped in a protective woolen cloth.

“This was my father’s. When he died, I looked everywhere for it.”

“May I?” he asked and Tamina handed the beautiful instrument to him.  Dastan sat up in bed and began to re-tune it carefully.

Tamina continued her search, finally finding the armour she'd been looking for. It was more worn and simple that the ceremonial breastplate she had used before, plain leather strengthened by medallions of metal over the chest and back. It was well-used and formidable.  Dastan swallowed hard when he saw it, realizing he wouldn’t be able to keep her from the inevitable danger they would be walking back into.

To distract himself, Dastan idly plucked at the lute and began to sing. Tamina shivered and looked at him over her shoulder. His voice was beautifully clear and natural, sending tremors of awareness and delight washing over her. The song was old and well-known, and there were many versions of it, but Dastan had chosen verses of love and loss. His singing was accomplished, playing with the melody, slipping into a minor key to enhance the emotion of the words. Tamina put down the sword she held and walked to him, eyes locked with his. He let his voice drop to a low timbre and she shivered again, laying down next to him on the bed. Dastan was entranced by her reaction, her mouth half open in obvious pleasure and at the end he put the lute aside and sang the last few notes in a whisper at her ear.

He sat up again, smirking, but Tamina looked at him with such a clear intention in her eyes, his mouth went dry.

“You sing wonderfully Dastan,” she murmured and crawled into his lap, straddling his hips, leaning in to kiss him. Dastan’s surprised laugh ended in a moan as she drove her tongue into his mouth and pressed her breasts into his chest. Feeling him begin to harden under her, she smiled wickedly and pulled her shift up to her waist, rubbing against him with small rotations of her hips.

“What was it Bis said? Is this what he meant by being ridden?” she asked boldly.

“Gods Tamina,” he groaned. “I... You may be too tender for this.”

“I want to try anyway.”

She pulled the shift off over her head and knelt to tug the sheet covering him out from under her before tilting up his chin to kiss him again. Dastan skimmed his hands lightly up her thighs as their mouths teased each other until he found her center, wet and ready for him. He plunged a finger in, pumping slowly, then added another, catching her moan in his open mouth.

“Does this hurt, love?”

“N...ah...no,” she stammered, her voice wanton and throaty. “Please Dastan, I need you.”

“Take me then. You can control how deep you want me and please yourself.”

Dastan pulled his fingers from her and rubbed her moisture on himself and they both looked down to watch the moment she lowered onto him, slowly, so slowly. Deeper and deeper. Tamina gasped, panting to catch her breath, reveling in that blissful stretch that was almost painful. Almost.

Dastan muttered curses and words of praise and love in turn under his breath. He looked up to see her face, flushed with arousal as he filled her, joining them together once more, his hands gripping her hips tightly but he forced himself not to move.

Finally, with him fully inside, Tamina wiggled her hips experimentally as she ran her hands over his hard chest to his shoulders, running her open mouth down his neck, feeling him tremble.

“I like it this way,” her voice low and sultry against his skin. “I can touch you and kiss you and make you shudder.”

Dastan squeezed her hips gently and lifted her up a little, encouraging her to move and she sat back with her palms on his chest and began to sink down on him and slide back up in a steady pace that made her breasts bounce in a most delicious way. His hands trailed up to cup them lightly, to feel their heavy, delicious quiver.

He was completely lost in her and the motion of her hips and when she became more wild, pounding down, he thrust his hips upward to meet her. The deep penetration made her gasp his name and tilt her head back, her luscious mouth falling open as she lost their fixed rhythm. He gripped her hips again, helping her keep a steady cadence with him, feeling her long hair brush like silk against his hands. Dastan reached between them and rubbed her bud in tight circles with his thumb and without warning her back arched as she ground down, hips rolling, the rest of her body frozen in rapture, whimpering as she clenched around him, sending him spiraling into ecstasy with her.

She fell against him, fingers clutching his hair, cradling his head to her breast, panting. They were tangled together so perfectly she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. And they began to laugh, giddy and drunk with love.

“Was this just because I sang for you?” Dastan teased, when he could breathe again.

“I would fear marriage to you,” Tamina admitted ruefully, kissing his cheek lightly. “You only have to sing and I’d melt at your feet.” But then she stilled, realizing too late what she had said. She knew she couldn’t let herself hope to marry him, even if they survived. His father would never give him up. His brothers would never let him go.   

“Hmmm,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck. “Sounds like the perfect marriage to me,” he said easily, reassuringly.

He leaned back to look in her eyes. He had not missed the wistful longing in her voice or the fear that she had said too much.

“I don’t know what they’ll say but they love me and want my happiness above all else. And that is you Tamina.”

She hugged him and mumbled into his shoulder, “Before your father died he gave me to you instead of Tus.”

“Really?” Dastan exclaimed softly.

“I didn’t tell you earlier because… I think because I felt guilty. When we were out in the wild... when I lay next to you under the stars, I’d imagine being an ordinary princess. I would wed my beloved and go with you to your home, be your loving wife and have your children. Leave my duty and people behind to be with you, only you. And I longed for that simple life. So much it hurt.”

They held each other tightly, desperately, before rising from the bed, to dress and don their armour and weapons in silence. Tamina secured a short sword at her back, a knife at her hip and fit several throwing knives into a wide strap on her left arm, braiding her hair as she did before.

“Should we bring the bow?” she asked him.

Dastan glanced over his shoulder as he put her father’s lute carefully back in the trunk where she’d found it. “Depends on where we end up fighting.” They hadn’t discussed whether it would happen or not but they both expected the worst. “I’ll carry it.”

Tamina watched Dastan smother the fire and realized with a sharp pain that it would be a long time before she could face coming back here without him. If she ever could again.

Dastan joined her then and handed one of the lanterns to her. “What is it?” he asked, concerned.

She attempted a casual shrug. “This place won’t be the same without you.”

Dastan took her hand and kissed it. “Try not to dwell on the future before going into battle,” hoping his advice would help. She nodded, looking into his eyes, and he could see steely resolve cloak her like a shield, a grim smile on her lips.

They left the refuge hand in hand, down the long, dark tunnel, finally coming to a hidden door which she opened by reaching for a lever that was disguised as a torch bracket. Behind was a steep straight stair, shorter than the ones they had taken downward from the pool. When they came to a wooden trapdoor, Tamina took a key hidden behind a loose brick to unlock it. They emerged into the base of a tower of the city wall and the sunlight streaming through the arrow slits hurt their eyes after so long underground. After a moment to adjust, Tamina unlatched a last door and they were outside again, blinking up at the city glittering in the late afternoon sun.

Working their way upwards, by the fishponds near the wall, through the orchards and vineyards, they ended up in a water garden that was set just below the palace. Dastan paused for a moment to admire it, the gurgling flow of water through rills and fountains reminded him of home. But when Tamina led him to a lovely waterfall, smiled with mischief and walked behind it out of sight, he was back in her world of mystery and wonder. He followed and they paused to watch the thin sheet of water glimmer in the sun, creating a shining curtain that offered vague glimpses of the garden on the other side. After a moment Tamina took his hand and drew him forward into a hidden grotto where they found a man standing guard.

“Princess!” he burst out a bit loudly, obviously startled. “Your Highness, I'll get Captain Asoka” bowing to them before he left.

Alone again, they listened to the soft drip of water in the muted half-light of the mossy cave and waited. It came to them both that this might be the last time they could be free with each other and they shared a soft, bittersweet kiss. Dastan looked down at her and felt the rightness of the love he felt for her and needed to make a promise after all, even if it was only for them.

He took a ring from his little finger and held it up for her to see, it was gold with a lion’s head. “My father gave this to me when I officially became his son.” He held her hand and slid on the ring. “You are part of my family now. My love, my wife. Before the Gods, kings and men, for all time.”

Tamina lost herself in his eyes, his ring warm and heavy on her finger and a single tear ran down her cheek. She looked down at an intricate silver ring on her index finger. “My father gave me his puzzle ring when I became High Priestess. It can be taken apart into four separate bands. He told me they represent different aspects of my life, to remind me I am more than my duty. I did not truly know myself before you Dastan. My love, my husband. Before the Gods, kings and men. For all time.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How could they get in besides using the front door?”  
> “The whole of my private apartment is self-contained, but there are quite a few windows, balconies and also the oculus in the bathing chamber.” She squeezed his hand. “I’ve seen you get into more difficult places.”  
> Dastan grinned, immoderately pleased by her compliment. He walked through everywhere, keen-eyed and concentrated, pausing only once to gaze longingly at her beautifully laid bed and sighed before going out onto the balcony which overlooked a garden far below.

When Asoka arrived with Ravan, they found Dastan and Tamina in a light embrace; his lips brushing her forehead, her hand resting over his heart. An air of tenderness and melancholy lingered around them and her adjutants were startled by the feeling they’d intruded on a scene of profound intimacy; a perfect moment that was broken as soon as Tamina saw them.

The three guardians greeted each other simply with a clasping of hands and Dastan noticed that Ravan also subtly wore arms and a breastplate concealed by her cloak.

“Did the diversion work?” Tamina asked.

“After a fashion,” Asoka answered. “We dispatched three of them, but the most dangerous ones escaped.”

Tamina let out a hiss of frustration. “They are so hard to kill” she muttered to herself. “Have any of the last four been seen?”

“No Princess. We thought they would look for you in the palace or the Persian’s camp, but we have seen no sign of them.”

“The dagger?” Ravan asked.

“It is hidden in the sanctuary, beyond Nizam’s reach.” Tamina turned to Dastan. “I don’t know your uncle. Have we done enough to stop him? What will he do next?”

Dastan thought for a long moment. “There is only one way for him to succeed now. If he managed to kill my brothers and I, he could take command of our army, blame you for our deaths and occupy the city.” He paused, a haunted look in his eyes. “Losing us would injure my father gravely, perhaps fatally.”

Tamina blanched but managed to keep her voice steady. “He would need you or I to tell him where the dagger is. Of course once the city was under his control, I still think he would find it eventually on his own.”

Tamina suddenly burst out in frustration and despair, “He could still beat us, damn him! We must finish him and his monsters!”

Dastan nodded sadly, “The king must never see his brother alive again. My father has not come here I hope?” he asked the others with concern.

“No,” Ravan assured him. “Your brothers took Princess Tamina’s warning seriously, even though the princes aren’t convinced of your uncle’s treachery. Prince Garsiv has seen the dead hassansins with his own eyes.”

“Nizam will soon know we’ve returned but we should have a short time to prepare. I must speak to my brothers. I think you should join me Tamina.”

“Prince Dastan,” Tamina began hesitantly, and he frowned at her return to formality. Their relationship had changed so much in a few short days, he would find it difficult to pretend otherwise.   

“If we are all together, giving them a perfect target. If we are prepared to act as bait…” Her eyes searched his. “Would that be wise or foolhardy?”

Dastan nodded grimly. “Ask my brothers to arm themselves and meet us in Princess Tamina’s rooms,” he ordered. “No need to hide anything if my uncle is with them,” Dastan said, still looking at Tamina, and she dipped her head once in agreement.

“I will see to it,” Asoka answered.

“And you and Ravan shall come as well but no other guards, it must seem as normal as possible,” Tamina added.

The four of them left the grotto, following a dim tunnel until they passed through a simple door into a storage room stuffed full of old furniture and faded trinkets. Dastan looked back as Asoka shut the door and pulled on a tall shelf stacked with linens that swung easily back against it, hiding the entrance from view.

“I thought we had ingenious secret rooms and hiding places but yours are much more exotic,” Dastan whispered in Tamina’s ear as Asoka checked that the corridor outside was deserted.

They worked their way up through the palace without attracting attention. At Tamina’s door Asoka left to fetch the princes and Ravan went on her own errands, promising to be back shortly.

In her chambers, Dastan surveyed the largest room where they'd eaten together before going to the sanctuary, a lifetime ago. There were two arched entrances, one to the corridor outside, the other to Tamina’s bedroom. It was a perfect square encompassing an inner ring of thick columns with gauzy curtains hung between them that created a cozy sitting area in the center, littered with cushions, chairs and a few small tables. Behind the columns, all along the walls, were low divans and chests, baskets and open shelves that held books and scrolls. Dastan proceeded to tear down the curtains without ceremony and started shoving the light furniture out of the room, through the bedroom and into an antechamber. He then dragged the heavy pieces to sit like islands between the columns with some space on either side, creating a bit of cover for them Tamina surmised.

He considered the center of the room for a long moment. “Help me move the cushions and the rest. It could trip them up but is just as likely to impede us.”

“Could we leave a few chairs and tables for us to use while we wait?” Dastan nodded and in a short few minutes they were finished.

“How could they get in besides using the front door?”

“The whole of my private apartment is self-contained, but there are quite a few windows, balconies and also the oculus in the bathing chamber.” She squeezed his hand. “I’ve seen you get into more difficult places.”

Dastan grinned, immoderately pleased by her compliment. He walked through everywhere, keen-eyed and concentrated, pausing only once to gaze longingly at her beautifully laid bed and sighed before going out onto the balcony which overlooked a garden far below.

“It’s a long drop but they could easily get up here,” he muttered to himself. “More likely than using the door.”

With a sudden change of demeanor, Dastan took her hand and drew her toward the bed.

“No!” Tamina scolded. “No time to play.” She tried to appear stern but a pleased smile tugged at her lips.

He whined theatrically but changed direction and dragged her to one of the remaining chairs in the sitting room where he pulled her down onto his lap. Dastan grinned mischievously and tried to embrace her. But their unyielding armour got in the way and he growled in frustration. Tamina soothed him by running her fingers through his hair, scattering soft kisses on his face like rain. He roped her long braid around his fist, holding her still, and made do with a slow deep kiss.

They heard Garsiv’s voice just before he came in with Tus, giving Tamina just enough time to stand up, her lips swollen and blushing furiously. Dastan took her hand and kissed his ring on her finger before turning to greet them.

When Dastan saw his brothers, he smiled with a serene maturity they had never seen in him before and he went to give them each a heartfelt hug. If they were surprised by this uncharacteristic affection, they didn’t comment on it. Instead the three brothers shared their news, Dastan and Tamina glancing at each other when Garsiv told them about the raid on their tent. So far, they’d managed to keep one step ahead of Nizam and hoped their luck would hold.

Dastan told them earnestly. “Uncle Nizam is indeed behind it. There is a power in Alamut that could make him king. I saw it. Trust me, you don’t want to know more.” Tus and Garsiv both nodded stoically.

“You accept it now and agree we must act to stop him?”

“No forges have been found, Uncle has not produced the spies and then there are the hassansins,” Tus answered, resigned.

Garsiv looked them up and down and surveyed the room. “You are expecting an imminent struggle?” Tamina’s appearance especially made an impression.

“We think he will try and take the army,” Dastan said simply, not needing to elaborate further.

His brothers did not miss Dastan’s use of the word ‘we’, nor Tamina’s embarrassment and reddened lips when they came in.

Suddenly protective, Garsiv turned to her aggressively. “Why did you target Dastan?”

Tamina took a step back, bumping into Dastan as he stood behind her, unprepared neither for his brother’s fury or the question itself. 

"Garsiv," Dastan warned, "stop."

But he continued doggedly, "You can't deny it Princess, we're not blind."

She felt Dastan squeeze her hand as she attempted to regain her composure, reaching for a plausible reason that would satisfy them.

“I needed to trust one of you with our secrets and Prince Dastan is not related to you or your uncle by blood.” Tus opened his mouth to protest.

“I realize he is your true brother,” she said quickly, “he loves you but you earned his love, it is not unconditional. I only hoped he would be more willing to listen to my information about your uncle’s plot than you would be.”

“That still does not excuse you manipulating him with your...” He gestured vaguely about her person. “Yourself.”

“You worry I have ensnared him to serve my own ends? He is perfectly capable of defending himself!” Tamina spat, her voice becoming shrill. “You should give him more credit! Maybe he seduced me.” She muttered almost to herself, remembering how he’d so easily wormed his way into her heart.

“Dastan wouldn’t do that,” Tus stated calmly.

Tamina crossed her arms and said nothing. Because, of course Dastan wouldn’t do that. Not deliberately, not with cold calculation.  _ But I would. I did.  _ Even though Tamina understood her behavior toward him had been necessary, it did not sit well. She was self-aware enough to acknowledge her more unbecoming traits. She could be unnecessarily difficult, slyly cunning, demanding, ruthless and was an accomplished liar. And when it came to him, she had also been incredibly selfish, asking things of him she had no right to. A guilty, frightened part of her worried that Dastan would think again once he really knew her.

“Enough!” cut in Dastan, glaring at Garsiv. “The point is, Princess Tamina has buried or hidden the objects our uncle seeks. To get his hands on them he needs the army. He will either try to eliminate us soon or he won’t. We have more pressing matters to deal with right now than badgering her in a misguided attempt to defend my honor.”

Dastan pulled her around to face him, surprised that she seemed so upset by the angry exchange, how vulnerable she looked. But there was nothing he could do about it now. He sighed heavily and caught Tus’ eye.

“Does Uncle know where we are or do I have to contrive an invitation?”

Tus ran a weary hand over his face. “We sent a message to meet us here, he will come.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After several hours, Tamina paced the room, unable to control her tension. Dastan’s eyes followed her until he huffed and blocked her way, forcing her to stop.  
> “You’re making me nervous. You shouldn’t worry, we have a good chance.”  
> Tamina just shook her head and refused to look at him. “Talk to me Princess,” he demanded.  
> “I can’t bear to watch you die again,” she said in a small voice, dismayed to feel tears welling up. Dastan drew her into his arms, nosing her temple.  
> She rubbed at her eyes angrily. “At a time like this… Foolish emotions!” she muttered. “I used to have better self-control.”  
> “How do you think I feel? I want to keep you from harm and here you are armed to the teeth." He gave her a playful squeeze. "I have to confess, embracing a fellow soldier feels...odd.” Tamina let out a watery laugh like he hoped she would.

While Dastan was giving his brothers a concise report on the layout and weak points of Tamina’s apartment, Asoka and Ravan returned carrying several baskets. Garsiv raised his eyebrows at the massive quantities of food and drink they began to unpack.

“We’ve no idea how long we’ll be stuck in here,” Ravan said somewhat defensively.

“Did you get it from the kitchens?” Tamina asked her sharply, worrying about poison. It would be a very efficient method for Nizam to dispose of them.

“No, from the market.”

“You’re as bad as Garsiv,” Dastan teased.

Tamina gave him a glare before glancing at his brother warily, still stung by their argument. “He’s not wrong,” she conceded wryly. The two brothers snorted in unison and Tus chuckled.

“Since we’re all here and Uncle isn’t, let’s talk strategy,” Dastan suggested.

The four soldiers dominated the discussion, all approving Dastan’s preparation of the room where they would make their stand. They decided to set a watch on both entrances to the chamber and Asoka talked them through what he’d learned about the spike thrower during the fight at the guardian temple.

“I think the only way is to harry him with several targets until we get a lucky strike or he runs out of knives,” he concluded.

While the men continued talking, Tamina took Ravan aside. “This is not a request. I want you to go to the upper gallery and shoot down on the battle from above. You’re very good with the bow,” Tamina said, handing it to her.

Ravan knew better than to argue but tried anyway. “Highness…”

“No, you are my Second and one of us must live. There are many reasons why I should be the one who stays to face Nizam. If we lose you must run. Try to get to my bathing pool or the Moon Tower.” And Tamina told her as briefly as possible how to reach the sanctuary and where the dagger was hidden.

Ravan bowed, picked up the quiver of arrows, some food and water and left the room with a solemn wish for good fortune. “May the Gods smile on us.”

The three princes watched her go into the bedchamber. Tamina pointed to a spot high up on one wall near the ceiling where a highly decorated marble frieze skirted the room. “Just there is a hidden viewing gallery. Lady Ravan will watch our backs with a bow.”

Garsiv nodded in approval. He had to admit, _there are some damn impressive women in Alamut._ He observed Tamina thoughtfully and sidled over to Asoka.

“Can they fight?” he asked in an undertone so Tamina wouldn’t hear him.

“Yes, Highness. They undergo frequent training,” he answered. Asoka recognized fighting alongside women would be a new experience for the Persians so he elaborated.

“They only lack practical experience. As with any green soldier, getting in the middle of a real battle will make or break them. But I wouldn’t worry about their composure or skill. You and your brothers can depend on them. I certainly will.”

Garsiv hummed to himself, lost in thought when Tus came over to talk, bringing bread, cured meat and fruit to share with them. Asoka excused himself to take the first watch, sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, eyes fixed on the open door to Tamina’s bedroom.

After several hours, Tamina paced the room, unable to control her tension. Dastan’s eyes followed her until he huffed and blocked her way, forcing her to stop.

“You’re making me nervous. You shouldn’t worry, we have a good chance.”

Tamina just shook her head and refused to look at him. “Talk to me Princess,” he demanded.

“I can’t bear to watch you die again,” she said in a small voice, dismayed to feel tears welling up. Dastan drew her into his arms, nosing her temple.

She rubbed at her eyes angrily. “At a time like this… Foolish emotions!” she muttered. “I used to have better self-control.”

“How do you think I feel? I want to keep you from harm and here you are armed to the teeth." He gave her a playful squeeze. "I have to confess, embracing a fellow soldier feels… odd.” Tamina let out a watery laugh like he hoped she would.

His two brothers sat too far away to hear their conversation but watched them with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“He’s in love with her,” Tus murmured.

“He’s headed for heartache,” Garsiv grumbled. “You remember what she told us about her future Prince Consort. Father won’t agree to that. Besides Dastan will hate it after awhile. No matter how beautiful she is.”

“Not if he loves her,” Tus said quietly, knowing Garsiv had never experienced that overwhelming, delicious, delirious sentiment. Despite having two wives.

“Well she is either an amazon or a viper and -”

Ravan’s low whistle of warning interrupted the debate and they all froze in readiness, turning as one toward the door that led into the palace. It slowly opened but only Nizam entered, shutting the door behind him.

“You are all looking rather tense, is anything amiss?” Nizam asked sharply.

Tus opened his mouth to answer but at that same moment Asoka heard the telltale metallic click of spikes being launched before he actually saw anything coming.

“Cover!” he yelled and they all dived for a pillar or chest at the same moment the hassansins streamed, en masse, into the room.

It was utterly chaotic. With her back to a pillar, Tamina found she could only focus on the area directly in front of her, strangely cut off from the rest of them. She could hear the sounds of struggle all around her though. Metal striking metal, grunts of effort and curses, the twang of Ravan’s bow, the terrifying hiss of flying darts. In seconds she regained her concentration and looked around for an adversary, only marginally surprised to see the traitor priest with his masked face advancing on her.

Before he got too close, the man recoiled, staggering back. Tamina silently thanked Ravan when she saw an arrow protruding from his thigh. It gave her the chance to hurl two of her throwing knives at him. One glanced off his armoured chest, but the other hit home in his upper arm. Tamina stood ready, sword clenched in her hand, but knew she wouldn’t last long in a close fight, not against the halberd. So she rushed him, ducking under the ax and used her body weight to successfully knock him off balance, falling hard against the opposite wall.

She heard a sickening crunch as his head hit stone and he lay still. Relieved, Tamina approached him cautiously, sword raised, ready to strike. But before she cut his throat, she wanted to see his face, to see if she recognized him. Tamina knelt and pulled off the mask. The man was younger than she expected and not maimed or scared at all, not like the other hassansins. But the traitor was a complete stranger.

Just as she lifted her sword to finish him, Dastan careened into view a few feet away. As she watched in horror, a whip with a claw of metal flashed out and dug into his shoulder, pulling him up short. Tamina looked around and saw the hassansin throw back his other arm to launch the scorpion tipped whip. Dastan struggled to get free but was held fast by the claw. He couldn’t avoid the next one.

Tamina threw herself at him, covering Dastan’s chest just as the lethal stinger reached them. He grunted in shock as she fell against him, eyes wide with panic, helplessly watching her quake in agony as the sharp metal penetrated her armour to dig deep into her back. She shuddered in pain, her breath rasping harshly, not even able to cry out.

“No, no, no,” Dastan moaned, holding her tight against him.

They were caught but so was the hassansin. He pulled at his whips with increasing ferocity to get them back. Dastan hissed in pain as the claw pulled free, rending his flesh as it went. But concentrating on Tamina, he wrapped his forearm around the whip attached to her back to hold it in place while he cut it. Before they could move to safety, the claw sailed back at them but Dastan turned with her, lurching to the side so it ineffectually bounced off his armoured back.

With a supreme effort, Tamina jerked from his hold and forced herself to stand tall and steady on her feet, backing into the wall, out of range.

“I’m alright. Go.”

He gave her a long hard look, obviously conflicted about what he should do. Protect her by staying with her or eliminating the enemy. The claw whip shot past his head, reaching for them again and Dastan sprang back into the battle.

Tamina sank down slowly to sit on the floor and leant against the wall on her good side. She was out of the fight, unable to use her sword arm. Her wound was a sharp throb now and bearable if she didn’t move too much. Through the center of the room she could see Asoka and Tus darting around the columns, taking turns drawing the attention of the spike thrower although she couldn’t see him. Now and then an arrow shot down to where the hassansin must be. As she watched, several darts struck the frieze covering the gallery. Tamina prayed none of them got through.  

A movement by the door caught her attention. Nizam stood there, his eyes flashing around the room, observing, but taking no part in the fight himself. Then their eyes met and he cautiously stalked over to her, hugging the wall. As he passed the traitor priest, Nizam kicked him hard. To Tamina’s bitter dismay, the man jerked awake and unsteadily stood up.

Nizam took her by the throat, dragging her to her feet. “Where is the dagger Princess?” he asked in polite inquiry even as his hand left painful bruises on her neck. 

She couldn't stand, legs weak from blood loss and began to sink back down. Nizam sneered and shoved her at the hassansin to hold.

“Where is the dagger?!” he asked again, voice shrill with rage.

“I will never tell you,” she said calmly, twisting in the hassansin’s rough hands so she could look him in the eye behind her. “You know I will never give it up. You’re going to lose.” And in a soft murmur she said,  “Just like last time.” 

The man’s eyes widened in shock.

Nizam sneered, misunderstanding her words. “We’ll see about that. Bring her, we may have to leave soon.”

They made their way back to the outer door, Nizam’s attention turned to the fight again, ignoring them as he shifted away to get a better view.

“Why?" she asked the hassansin.

“Last time?” he growled in reply.

“This is the second time I have lived through this day. Why did you betray us!” 

The man swallowed hard. “My father was Mehdi, your Second when you became High Priestess. He raised me to succeed him, taught me all of Alamut’s secrets. I was newly initiated into the priesthood when it happened.”

Tamina gasped. ' _It’_ was when her own Second tried to murder her to seize power when she was 16 years old. He had killed her father instead as he fought to defend her.

“The Gods gave my father many visions of the great sandstorm cleansing the earth. Mankind is an evil scourge, a plague. He taught me that we two are called to do the Gods’ bidding. Nizam is only the instrument of their judgment. I ran after my father's execution and became a mercenary. The Persian scum recruited me for the hassansins when he learned I was from Alamut. I didn’t tell him of the Sands of Time, he already knew. I recognized my destiny. It was fate.”

Tamina breathed in sharply. _Nizam already knew. But how?_  

“One down!” Dastan suddenly called out.

“Well done!” Tus shouted back. “Now help us with this demon!”

Tamina’s eyes shot across to Nizam. He was becoming agitated, she didn’t have much time. 

“And yet we defeated him, Prince Dastan and I. The dagger is lost to him, the sandglass buried. We will defeat you again. We serve the Gods’ purpose, not you. You have become an abomination!”

The man’s face paled, the truth of what she said crashed down on him and in an agony of shame and guilt, he handed Tamina his sword. “You must put me to death. I don’t deserve to live and may I suffer in eternal torment for what I have done.”

Tamina nodded, giving the sword back. “I am The Guardian and I have one last task for you.” She pointed at Nizam. “Finish him.”

He bowed low to Tamina and with a leap he was on Nizam, an arm around his throat, plunging the sword into his side. Nizam screamed and tried to break free but the hassansin dragged him backwards into her bedchamber. After a moment she heard another scream as Nizam was flung from her balcony to his death. The priest fell in silence.

Tamina let go, leaning on the wall, sinking to her knees. _Where is Dastan?_ With her last strength she forced herself to look back at the battlefield to see Garsiv grappling with the snake charmer, locked in a death struggle, just barely holding the hassansin’s blade at bay. Then his serpent slowly crawled from his sleeve toward Garsiv’s face. He bared his teeth in defiance while the fiend grinned cruelly with his certain victory.

Suddenly Ravan appeared behind the hassansin leader, plunging a throwing knife into his neck. He opened his mouth on a silent scream, pale eyes bulging, before pitching to the ground at their feet. Ravan jumped back quickly, giving Garsiv room to dispose of the snake. Catching their breath, Garsiv looked down at Ravan and shook his head, brushing his thumb lightly over her cheek. She gave him a brief smile, picked up a fallen sword and they turned together to where Dastan, Tus and Asoka fought the last hassansin. His darts were finally spent and the five of them advanced as one, circling. The man snarled and turned to flee as the princes and guardians descended upon him. Asoka dealt the death blow, avenging his fallen men.

Tamina let out a long breath as her vision began to darken. She let herself slide sideways to lie on the floor, leaving a wide smear of blood on the wall. She saw boots running toward her, heard Dastan’s voice cry her name. Closing her eyes, she wished she could tell him that she was at peace, content. Everyone lived, everyone except herself perhaps. _But it’s my turn this time._ She could feel him touch her face, but his broken voice begging her to stay with him sounded far away. Just before she fell into blackness she had one last satisfying thought.

_I did it._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you decided what to tell the king?”  
> “What do you suggest?” Tus asked in frustration. “We still don't know what happened to him. Do you?”  
> Tamina squirmed a little under Tus’ unyielding gaze. She felt Dastan’s hand gently soothing her throat. The bruises Nizam left on her were undoubtedly showing by now.  
> “Your uncle was killed by the hassansin who was once a priest of our order. They fell together off my balcony.” Tamina paused, steeling herself to take responsibility for her actions. They deserved the truth.  
> “But I ordered it,” she admitted, her voice hard. Dastan stiffened behind her, letting out a soft oath in surprise.

Dastan stood numbly watching the healers care for Tamina, listening hard to the few words he could hear the physician utter. 

“...how should we remove the blade...quick, we need to stop the bleeding…examine it for poison...”

Completely unaware of someone pulling off his armour to see to his own wounds, he mindlessly followed their instructions until a matronly woman lifted a cup of vile-smelling liquid to his mouth and he gruffly pushed it away.

“Highness, it is only for the pain, not to dull your senses.” The healer paused for a beat. “At least sit down, you are about to collapse.” Dastan ignored her.

After another few minutes of tense waiting that felt like hours, he let out a frustrated snarl and stormed out of the room. The others all jumped at a sudden tumult of crashing wood and metal clanging against stone, the violent outburst compounded by Dastan’s shouts of rage and despair. His brothers immediately went to him, Garsiv restraining him while Tus clasped both his hands. Dastan struggled against their hold for a moment but soon collapsed into Tus’ arms with a dry sob.

“She took the blade for me,” he moaned. “She was suddenly there, shielding me, and I couldn’t do anything!” Dastan’s voice quavered, desperation in his eyes. “I can’t lose her, not like this!”

Tus wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Do you remember when you got that nasty scar on your cheek? We waited hours for you to wake up and I was torn between sick worry and rage at your blind folly, taking on four by yourself. But mostly I wished it was me lying there instead of you. There’s nothing worse than waiting. It is pure agony. But never give up hope.”

Dastan smiled wanly and let his brothers lead him back into Tamina’s room, sitting together quietly while the time dragged by.

Finally, the physician nodded his head, issuing instructions to his assistants and approached Ravan. “Lady Ravan,” he began, but she held up a hand to stop him and went to stand behind Dastan, hand on his shoulder, before letting the healer continue.

“The Princess should be alright. Her wound is not as deep as we feared, but she might have broken ribs. Thank the Gods we found no poison on the weapon. If she does not have hidden wounds like a head injury, she should wake soon. We’ll know more when she can tell us how she feels.”

They all let out sighs of relief. Dastan’s was more a groan. He went to sit on the floor next to her bed, eyes never leaving her face, willing her to awaken. To wake up so he could kiss her or yell at her, he didn’t know which.

\---

Now that they were reassured about Tamina’s condition, Asoka left, limping, to join his men in the infirmary and Tus and Garsiv went to survey the battlefield. Ravan followed after them into the wrecked and bloody sitting room, avoiding the hassansins' bodies that still lay there.

“Uncle is not here, he must have escaped,” she heard Tus mutter.

“I last saw him there near the outer door,” Ravan pointed. “It looked like he was struggling with our traitorous priest but I can’t be certain. I shot my last arrow at the spike thrower but when I looked back, they were gone.”

The three of them walked to the place she indicated and saw a small pool of blood and followed the trail of drops they hadn’t noticed before which led them to the wide balcony in Tamina’s bedchamber. Ravan glanced back at the reluctant princes, took a deep breath and looked down into the rose garden far below them.

“Your uncle is there, they both are,” she said quietly. The princes grimaced. “He is not disfigured, he just looks...surprised.”

After taking a moment to brace themselves, Tus and Garsiv peered down at their still beloved uncle, broken and bloody, but not visibly so. Not at that distance.

“Shall I arrange for the bodies to be taken to your camp?” Ravan asked.

“One of us must first inform the officers. Being unexpectedly presented with the corpse of the king’s brother would cause problems,” Tus said, wincing when he put too much weight on his leg.

Garsiv glanced at Tus. “Your injuries still need to be treated. I will go and you must sleep. Or at least rest while you keep an eye on Dastan.”

Ravan left with him, having to issue orders of her own. But just after Garsiv closed the door behind them, she tugged at his arm. He suffered no wounds, but his struggle with the hassansin had been grueling. She had watched them, hoping for a clean shot, but it had been useless. The two of them were so evenly matched in strength and skill, their unrelenting combat had been breathtaking.

“Prince Garsiv, you’re exhausted and need to sleep as well. I will take proper care of your uncle’s body until your men come to collect him.”

Garsiv looked down at her with a bemused smile. “Lady Ravan, I haven’t yet thanked you for saving my life. I am in your debt.”

“As we are in yours Highness,” she replied sincerely.

He lifted his hand and gently touched her wrist where her skin had been rubbed raw by the bow string and murmured, “If you have this bandaged now and not later, I promise to sleep.” Leaving her with a racing heart and lips parted in surprise.

Ravan turned back to Tamina’s room, her gaze skimming over Tus, who sat in a chair with his head thrown back and eyes closed as the physician treated a nasty graze across his temple and settled on Dastan still sitting on the floor by Tamina’s bedside, looking inconsolable.

She lay on her stomach, facing him, still as death. Dastan stroked Tamina’s arm and took her limp hand in his, fingers wrapping around her wrist to feel the reassuring beat of her heart. For the first time, he noticed the star mark she carried on her palm, rubbing it with his thumb.  _ A tattoo, or is it a brand? _

“It is the mark of a guardian,” Ravan said quietly behind him. “At our initiation, we are taken to see the sandglass for the first time and must place our hand upon it. If the Gods accept us, a flash like a bolt of lightning erupts and burns the mark into our skin.”

She sat beside him and after a long silence, Dastan said softly, “You saw what happened, what she did?”

“Yes.”

“She should not have protected me.” Anger rose into his throat, choking him. “As The Guardian, she shouldn’t have chosen me over her duty, isn’t that so?”

“Princess Tamina has changed. Asoka and I, we have seen it. Because of her experiences in the lost time. Because of you. It is better to love, to have someone to fight for. Try not to blame her, you would have done the same I think.”

Ravan briefly clasped her hand over theirs and went to have her own minor wound treated as Garsiv asked, leaving Dastan to his own thoughts again.

Not long after, Tamina did wake up, a bit surprised to find herself lying comfortably in her own bed. She thought The Gods might have taken her life to punish her. Because if The Gods were watching, they knew beyond doubt that their Guardian had other priorities now. Her duty to them was no longer her life.

Dastan’s bowed head rested on his bent knees and she reached out to brush her fingers through his hair. Her breath caught when his head jerked up, startled at her touch, his eyes red with unshed tears, hard and unforgiving.

She flinched. “You're furious with me, aren't you,” Tamina whispered, her voice unsteady.

He exhaled heavily, a wry grimace twisting his lips.  _ She knows me so well. _

“Yes. But I'll get over it.” He stood stiffly to sit on the bed beside her, leaning over to carefully kiss her brow with sweet tenderness. “I feel better now that you're back with me. The Princess is awake,” he called to the physician over his shoulder.

The healers came to hover over her, asking questions, bringing her various medicines to drink. Tamina quickly lost patience with them, demanding to sit up. After much discussion and awkward maneuvering, Tamina leant against Dastan with her good side tucked into his, as he coaxed her into drinking all their distasteful concoctions.

Tamina’s eyes scanned the room. Tus was there, asleep on a divan, oblivious to the healers, servants and guards who swarmed around them, cleaning up blood and sweeping up bits of her broken possessions.

“I fought that whip creature in your bedroom. I’m afraid I made a mess,” Dastan said apologetically, drowsily nosing her cheek.

“You always do, my love,” she murmured as she drifted back to sleep in his arms.

\---

When Tamina woke the second time, it was to hear the princes discussing their imminent departure and her heart sank.

“I think we should send the army ahead to deal with Kosh. General Dabiri can begin the campaign by retaking our outposts. We’ll have to rejoin them in time to lead the siege on Koshkhan though,” Tus was saying.

Still cradled against his chest, she stirred in Dastan’s arms and couldn’t help wincing at the deeply unpleasant throbbing in her back.

“Do you need something for the pain?” he asked, concerned.

“Not right now.” She looked warily at his brothers sitting at their bedside. “Did you find your uncle’s body?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes, he is being prepared for the journey home tomorrow. The hassansins' corpses as well, the only proof we can show our father of what happened here.”

“Have you decided what to tell the king?”

“What do you suggest?” Tus asked in frustration. “We still don't know what happened to him. Do you?”

Tamina squirmed a little under Tus’ unyielding gaze. She felt Dastan’s hand gently soothing her throat. The bruises Nizam left on her were undoubtedly showing by now.

“Your uncle was killed by the hassansin who was once a priest of our order. They fell together off my balcony.” Tamina paused, steeling herself to take responsibility for her actions. They deserved the truth.

“But I ordered it,” she admitted, her voice hard. Dastan stiffened behind her, letting out a soft oath in surprise.

“You ordered his… his execution,” Garsiv repeated flatly. “How?” he demanded.

“I spoke with the man, our priest. His actions were guided entirely by a poisonous doctrine, a twisted faith. It was… it was easy to turn him, to convince him how wrong he was and regain his loyalty. To obey my command.”

She turned slightly to look Dastan in the eye. “I didn’t even have to lie.” Her voice wavered and he heard her unspoken plea for his understanding.

The three princes stared at her in astonishment for a long moment and Tamina inwardly quailed at what they must think of her.  _ Ruthless. Cold-blooded. Tyrannical. _

“We all knew he had to die,” Dastan said in a tone of hard finality. “We should be grateful Princess Tamina spared us from having to deal with him ourselves.” He sighed heavily, “Father will be heartbroken. Do we really need to compound his grief with his brother’s betrayal?”

“We’ll tell him the truth, but only the bare facts. Uncle Nizam was murdered by rogue hassansins who infiltrated Alamut’s palace and tried to kill us,” Tus decided. “But Father is no fool. If our explanation does not satisfy him…”

“Then we tell him the rest,” Garsiv concluded.

“But I cannot,” warned Dastan. “Alamut’s secrets are death.”

“Very well,” Tus conceded, looking at them with a soft smile. “You’ll most likely become Prince Consort. Alamut’s mysteries are yours to keep.”

Tears came to her eyes and she burrowed into Dastan’s side, face buried in his neck. For the first time, Tamina let herself hope for a future with him.

\---

Finally alone, they spent their last night together talking in between intermittent naps. Tamina woke often from the pain in her back and after drinking more medicine, they snuggled and whispered in the dark until she drifted off again. It bothered him that he couldn't stay to take care of her, that he didn’t know when he could come back.

Just before dawn, he murmured in her ear, “I met you one week ago.”

“And I met you four weeks ago.”

Neither could comprehend how their lives, indeed their very being, could be reshaped in a few short days. The steady progression of time was an illusion, Tamina knew. Now more than ever she understood the truth of it. Because she couldn’t remember a time she didn’t love him. But she still felt the echo of that dull emptiness she lived with before. And even though she feared its return, she would not allow Dastan to demolish his life for her.

“Dastan, you must promise not to give up your family to be with me. I know you care for me and feel an obligation, but -”

“Obligation!” Dastan cut her off, incensed. “You think I’ll leave and what, come to my senses? Tamina, I love you! Why is it so difficult for you to believe?” he bit out in exasperation.

“Because I am demanding and controlling. Distant and thorny. Manipulating. I have done some unforgivable things to you. I am hard to love!”

“Yes, you’ve built walls around yourself, formidable ones. But you let me in Tamina. Don’t you think I realize why you protect yourself? Losing your parents and taking on such crushing responsibility so young, the inherent isolation of being a monarch.”

He cupped her face in his hands, willing her to believe him. “The qualities you are ashamed of make you powerful Tamina. Armour, shield and blade - weapons that you use, not who you are.”

Tamina trembled and let out a quiet sob. This great hero with such a pure, generous heart was giving her more than understanding or forgiveness. It was complete recognition and absolute acceptance. Dastan could see the fear behind her eyes begin to fade.

After a moment she wiped her tears, clearing her throat. “Still. I refuse to come between you and your family. We can have a life together without a formal marriage; to see each other now and then. I made a vow to you and I meant it. In my heart, you are my husband and will be the father of my children, Gods be willing. I will be content with even half a life with you.”

Dastan bit back an oath. She wouldn’t be dissuaded.  _ Should add obstinate to her list,  _ he thought irritably. 

“I don’t know why we're having this argument. If you couldn’t tell, my brothers have accepted us. So will my father.” Dastan let out a defeated breath. “But if comes to it, I’ll find a way to keep you all, alright? Satisfied?”

“And when your father chooses a wife for you...”

“No, Tamina! That’s enough! Why must you -”

“I’ll brood about it. When you’re gone,” she said quietly.

“Fine,” he huffed, “I absolutely refuse to marry anyone but you.” He held up a hand as she was about to speak. “This is not negotiable Tamina and I won’t discuss it further. Understood?”

“Yes, Dastan,” she said meekly. But then a laugh bubbled up, bright and effervescent.

“You’re impossible,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

_ Difficult, not impossible _ . What he always told her in that arrogant, confident way of his. Tamina smiled at him, warm and sure. “But you love me anyway.” 

Dastan drew her in for a kiss. “But I love you anyway,” he murmured against her lips.

\---

They agreed to gather for a last good-bye in the reception hall. Tus and Garsiv were early, eager to get underway, but found Ravan already waiting for them. They didn’t recognize her at first, this tall and slender woman dressed in a closely fitted tunic of green silk, golden hair falling in thick curls down to her waist. They had never seen her like this, she’d always worn a loose, hooded cloak with her hair wrapped in a headscarf. Tus took one look at Garsiv and wandered over to the far side of the room. Garsiv gritted his teeth; he hated being so transparent.

Garsiv approached her warily. He already found her an incredibly admirable woman and really didn’t need to know just how beautiful she was.

“You are very adept at disguising yourself,” he said finally.

“My task was to observe you, not draw attention to myself.”

“And now?” he asked, not able to stop himself tugging gently on a shining lock of her hair.

Ravan was finding it hard to breathe but managed to answer casually, “We are friends now, are we not?” But she took in Garsiv’s serious expression and confessed quietly, “I want you to remember me.”

Garsiv reached for her, forgetting for a moment they were not alone, but stopped dead when Tus cleared his throat as Dastan came in, a protective arm around Tamina’s waist, Asoka following behind them.

As the others shared a few words of farewell with Tus, Garsiv and Dastan found themselves gazing at Tamina and Ravan. They were both utterly lovely, but together their contrasting coloring was truly mesmerizing.

Garsiv broke the spell by dryly commenting, “It’s a wonder we don’t roll over and grovel at their feet, begging them to keep us.”

Dastan snorted a laugh. “I didn’t quite beg, but I would have,” he admitted.

The six of them gathered together, silently looking at each other, Dastan and Tamina hand in hand, thinking about their experiences of the last week. Suspicion, confusion, fear, death. What they’d lost but also what they found.

Tus spoke for them all when he said, “At least we’ve gotten to know each other rather well, laying a good foundation for the future.”

_ He will be a great king,  _ Tamina thought. “Your Highness,” she said, approaching him with ceremonial dignity, bowing low. She took his hand in both of hers and kissed his signet ring. Tus visibly straightened, the mantle he would wear as the future king falling over him.

The Princes of Persia turned to go, Dastan giving one last, lingering kiss to Tamina’s brow, breathing her in. At the palace gate, he looked back to see her watching from a balcony far above. Tamina raised her hand high, his ring of gold flashing in the early morning sun.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was received with the ceremony and honor that a king deserved, Tamina sitting stiffly on her dais with Ravan and Asoka behind her, dressed in gold and white with crystals woven in her hair. When Sharaman approached, she rose smoothly and stepped down to greet him as equals. Or she tried to. Her wound was healing well, but it often ached unexpectedly and she winced. The king quickly came forward to offer an arm in support.  
> All ceremony forgotten he asked “They told me you were gravely injured. How are you feeling?”  
> “Well enough, Your Highness. Only an unpleasant twinge now and then.”  
> He patted her hand that rested on his arm sympathetically. And then he saw Dastan’s ring on her finger and inhaled sharply.  
> “My dear, I did not know! He did not tell me!”

Tamina refused to lie abed as her wound healed. She couldn’t bear the empty hours, thinking only of Dastan; remembering their time together, wondering where he was now. The healers reluctantly agreed but demanded that she restrict her movement and allow them to check on her regularly.

Luckily there was much to do that didn’t require physical exertion. She spent several days with the full council of the guardians and the chronicler of the high temple. Recounting her experience, recording a detailed history in the annals to guide, or rather warn, their successors. 

The revelation about the high priest Mehdi and his son staggered them. A few of the older members remembered the boy. Ghazab. They gave each other guilty glances when they realized what a danger he became. At the time, they’d seen him as a problem that conveniently solved itself. If it happened now, a newly initiated priest who disappeared without a trace, Tamina would investigate. But she’d been a frightened 16-year-old child, devastated by her father’s death. If she’d been told about Ghazab, she couldn’t recall. 

She and Ravan spent long hours discussing what it all meant. For all of their lives, they both felt the Gods were waiting for them to fail. Shamefully, when a true threat appeared, it was of their own making. The traitors’ obsession with nihility, seduced by an ideal cleansing. A purity of nothingness. That dark vision hadn’t appeared out of nowhere. The priesthood had become too preoccupied with self-sacrifice and, in their arrogance, dared to believe that they alone understood the Gods’ intent. 

Unexpectedly, The Gods hadn’t sat idly by, watching. She thought of her dead mother, a woman who could have met the challenges Tamina faced and probably better. Thought of her murdered father who she’d so relied on. And The Gods sent Dastan. 

All of the pain and loss and lonely years prepared her for this ordeal, prepared her for him. To face a brutal calamity they would only overcome together. The Gods saved them. Or more accurately, equipped them to save themselves. 

It was cold comfort when she lay in a bed that still smelled of him, imagining he was there next to her. Desperately missing his touch and the way he could make her laugh against her will. How his tender blue eyes broke through her walls to lay her heart bare before him. 

But she didn't cry. Not until her monthly flow came as usual. She hadn’t realized how the idea of Dastan’s child comforted her until the possibility was gone.

\---

One week later, a messenger announced the imminent arrival of the Persian king. Tamina received the news with outward calm, but her stomach twisted. This would be the most important meeting of her life. The judgment of this man, his father, his king, would determine her future happiness.

He was received with the ceremony and honor that a king deserved, Tamina sitting stiffly on her dais with Ravan and Asoka behind her, dressed in gold and white with crystals woven in her hair. When Sharaman approached, she rose smoothly and stepped down to greet him as equals. Or she tried to. Her wound was healing well, but it often ached unexpectedly and she winced. The king quickly came forward to offer an arm in support. 

All ceremony forgotten he asked “They told me you were gravely injured. How are you feeling?”

“Well enough, Your Highness. Only an unpleasant twinge now and then.”

He patted her hand that rested on his arm sympathetically. And then he saw Dastan’s ring on her finger and inhaled sharply.

“My dear, I did not know! He did not tell me!”

“You… you have not come to see if I am worthy of him?” She asked warily.

“Your question already tells me that you are.” His smile was kind. “No, I came to discover the truth of my brother’s death.”

Tamina’s expression went carefully blank. “Sire…” she began. But she saw the implacable look in his eye and bowed her head. 

“I know my sons wish to shield me. I will not say that they lied, but they withheld the full truth. That is why I decided to come to you instead. May we speak in private?”

Tamina sighed, resigned. “Yes, of course, Your Highness. Your sons agreed that if you asked directly…”

Tamina brought him to the garden outside the audience chamber, directing refreshments to be brought and sat with the king in a covered pavilion near the fountain. 

After tea and a bite to eat, the king began abruptly, “I have come to you, Princess, because I must have the truth of my brother Nizam. Our talk will be more disturbing than you expect, so I shall begin.” His eyes, serious and somber, shifted away from her, looking off into the distance.

“The beginning years of my reign were violent. Our father, bent on expansion, had started many wars and created enemies of our neighbors. I found there were certain decisions and questionable acts, more than unpleasant, that I must make for the good of the empire. I couldn’t face them, but Nizam could. At the time, I didn’t see what was happening to him, what I asked of him. Only after his death do I fully understand what I did to my brother. I corrupted his soul; I made him my sin-eater.” 

Sharaman’s voice faded for a moment with the weight of his confession. He hadn’t told anyone of his failure, but it felt right to tell this dignified young woman who watched him attentively, waiting uneasily for him to continue, knowing there must be more.

“Tus was newly married and Garsiv and Dastan were becoming fine young men when their mother, my beloved wife, died. Sick with grief, I withdrew for a long time into contemplation, study and prayer to cope with my devastation. My sons were given more responsibility, and even though the turbulent years of my reign had passed, Nizam still controlled the darker interests of the empire. I’m ashamed to admit I left them to it.” 

King Sharaman looked at Tamina directly again and she held her breath, sensing his retrospection was coming to the point. 

“I was searching for a new project to occupy my troubled mind when I came across an ancient scroll in our library written in archaic Babylonian and I took it upon myself to translate it. I worked on it for weeks and was so pleased with myself, I showed it to my brother, even though he had no interest in such things. Although I’ve forgotten most of it, I still remember the first line clearly: ‘ _ In Alamut rests the beating heart of all life on earth, The Sandglass of The Gods’  _ .”

Tamina gasped so loudly it sounded like a sob. Her horrified eyes searched his and he nodded grimly.

“At the time, I was caught by the scholarly pursuit of translation and did not give credence to what the scroll actually said. But when my sons wrote to me that they were in Alamut, warning me not to come because of vague rumors of hassansins, I looked for the scroll in the library where I’d left it years ago. But it was gone.”

Then Sharaman reached inside his cloak, bringing out a roll of papyrus and a folded piece of parchment, placing them in Tamina’s shaking hands.

“I found them among my brother’s possessions.” 

Tamina stared at the scroll, her fist clenching it so tightly the papyrus began to crack and splinter.  _ What should I do?  _ she thought in desperation, her mind spinning.

“He tried to murder my sons?” he asked gravely. “Nizam believed he could turn back time?”

“Yes.” She swallowed hard. “To the moment he killed the lion when you were boys.” Sharaman bowed his head and covered his face.

Tamina stood up and read the translation, pacing back and forth in agitation. It was all there - The Sands of Time, the dagger. Everything about the guardian’s sacred covenant with The Gods and the consequences of failure. 

She stood rigid, thinking hard.  _ I can still keep our secrets, the king doesn’t know it’s true, only that Nizam believed it.  _ But then she thought of Dastan, how proud Sharaman would be of his accomplishments, how freeing it would be to share the burden of secrecy with his father. 

She finally looked back to see the king watching her with sorrow and resignation. He blamed himself for what his brother had done. A man like that would never play with the fate of the world, even if he suffered a personal calamity. This man would never be so blind and selfish. 

Tamina put the testament aside and sat at the king’s feet, taking his hand, looking up at him earnestly. “Dastan saved us, he saved us all.”

Sharaman let out a shaky breath. “It’s all true? You are The Guardian?” 

Tamina nodded. 

\---

In the days that followed, Tamina and the king spent every hour of the day together in conversation, sometimes with Ravan or Asoka, but more often just the two of them. They began with Tamina and Dastan’s adventures, both the erased time and the present. As she spoke, she unwittingly laid bare her complicated feelings for Dastan as they evolved from utter loathing to grudging admiration to absolute devotion. Sharaman’s heart swelled seeing the warmth and tenderness that shone in her eyes for his son. 

On their third day together, walking along the rampart toward the Eastern Gate, the king unexpectedly steered the conversation toward marriage.

“You and Dastan wish to wed of course,” he said matter-of-factly.

Tamina froze, finding it hard to speak. “Yes Sire, that is our greatest desire.” Regaining control of herself with an effort, she forced herself to give him fair warning. 

“But if we marry, Dastan will no longer be Persia’s, but Alamut’s. You know my responsibility. I will never be free of it.”

“I am aware, my dear. Not long ago I received inquiries from Alamut about a possible betrothal for you. The requirements were very clear and I respectfully declined on my sons’ behalf. But with knowledge comes understanding.” The king grinned. “Shall we set them to work preparing a wedding?” 

Tamina could only restrain herself for a heartbeat before throwing herself in his arms. The king chuckled and patted her back in that comforting way only a father can.

“I have a suggestion.” Sharaman’s smile was conspiratorial. “When you’re able to ride without discomfort  _ and  _ the physician agrees, why don’t we travel together to join my sons? They are with the army now and are beginning negotiations with Kosh. It appears the ruffian has no more stomach for outright war than we do, so I’m hopeful an agreement can be reached. My boys are unaware I’m here with you. It will be a great surprise!”

So Ravan and the king's secretary were given the task of organizing the wedding in thirty days’ time and Tamina found herself leaving her city behind yet again, this time with Asoka, King Sharaman and his entourage. The journey was surprisingly pleasant, considering the desert was still...the desert. Cool water to drink when they rested during the hottest part of the day, sumptuous meals that awaited them when they halted for the night; a luxurious tent with a real bed to sleep in. 

The king was ever solicitous about her comfort, noticing her small signs of fatigue, insisting on stopping often to rest. Tamina enjoyed his company tremendously; Sharaman treated her like a daughter and she felt like one again. 

Nearing sunset of the fifth day, they crested a rise and saw the Persian army spread out before them, surrounding a large but rather decrepit fortress and a shabby town that sprawled haphazardly around it, whose walls were thick but poorly built. 

Tamina’s heart raced, she would see him again soon. With an anxious flutter in her belly, she felt unbearably nervous, wishing she wasn’t such a bedraggled mess. An irrational fear plagued her,  _ what if he’s changed his mind? _

None of this uncertainty showed on her face, but Sharaman reached over and squeezed Tamina’s hand reassuringly. He remembered what burning, enthralling love felt like. He smiled widely, anticipating Dastan’s reaction. It wasn’t often he had the opportunity to completely astound one of his sons.  

“I’ll go down first so you can make a grand entrance,” he chortled. Tamina couldn’t help a soft laugh at his enthusiasm.

The king’s herald blew a horn, drawing everyone’s attention. Thousands of men halted in their tasks and looked up toward them. Tamina held back with Asoka like he asked and, as the king rode down, she saw two men stride forward to meet him. By their dress and bearing, she recognized Tus and Garsiv, who greeted their father with a respectful bow and an affectionate hug. Sharaman gestured behind him and their eyes grew wide when they saw her. The brothers turned to their father in question.

“I went to Alamut hoping Princess Tamina would be good enough to answer some difficult questions and found a daughter instead.” 

Garsiv barked a laugh. “Finally, he’ll stop moping! He’s been unbearable.”

“Where is that boy? My surprise was meant for him, not you two.”

“He was with Kosh and his advisers in the royal tent. There he is.” Garsiv pointed to a large group walking towards them. “Kosh has taken a liking to him for some reason.”

“Dastan is not as belligerent as you,” Tus offered.

“And not as obnoxiously polite as you,” Garsiv shot back.

Sharaman laughed. “I will go say hello. Why don’t you escort the princess down to us.”

By the time the king met the others, there was a large press of men surrounding them, from generals to lowly foot soldiers. Dastan pushed his way through the crowd to embrace his father, bending down to nuzzle into his neck like when he was a boy. Sharaman ruffled his hair fondly and turned to Kosh.

“Please forgive me, I have some family business to attend to before I may greet you properly as you deserve.” The king had already surmised treating the warlord as a respected equal would go a long way in ensuring a successful negotiation. The man did preen, giving Sharaman an indulgent nod. Dastan raised his brows quizzically. The king turned to where the massive crowd of men began to step back, parting to open a passageway between them. 

And then he saw her. 

Clad in white, dusty, sweaty and oh so beautiful, being led to him by his brothers, each holding one of her hands. The hundreds of jostling men stilled and hushed at the sight. Frozen in astonishment as was Dastan himself. The king came to claim Tamina and ceremoniously brought her to Dastan, placing her hand in his, grasping them tightly in his own before letting go.

She lost herself in his sky blue eyes, the rest of the world fading away. Tamina felt the weight of the king’s gesture, the formality that made her feel she and Dastan were wed in truth at that moment. Becoming a new sister and daughter. Joined with him, belonging to him as he belonged to her.  

“Thank you, Father!” Dastan breathed when he could finally speak, dragging her to him in a crushing embrace. Tamina made a noise in between a shriek and a laugh, her arms winding around his neck, pulling him down for a very immodest kiss.    

A wave of murmurs and some loud exclamations swept through the crowd of soldiers, which had grown into the thousands. “Prince Dastan and the Princess of Alamut!” and “Prince Dastan won The Beauty!” 

A cheer erupted, the roar like a battle cry, a wall of sound that convulsed the earth under their feet and shook the battlements of Koshkahn.

They broke apart, startled by the tumult. Grinning widely, Dastan picked her up by her waist and spun her in the air making Tamina even giddier than she was already until his father made him stop. The king laughed as he hugged them in turn, Tus, Garsiv, Bis and Asoka not far behind. Even Kosh slapped Dastan on the back in congratulation, commenting that he must return to the city at speed to assure his men that a war hadn’t just started, (Tus paled at the thought) asking the royal family to come dine with him at their earliest convenience. 

It was rather a blur for Tamina after that. She was dimly aware of more raucous felicitations before Dastan drew her away into an open-sided tent just as the sun fell into twilight. As she tried to catch her breath, to regain her balance, he issued instructions that she couldn’t hear through her daze. Holding his hand, Tamina idly twisting the ring she’d given him, they stood in a corner while servants bustled around, bringing food and bathing water before Asoka came with her trunk, giving them a cheeky grin as he left. The lamps were lit, the walls of the tent were lowered one by one and they were finally left alone. 

“You’re happy to see me?” she murmured shyly.

Dastan snorted, “How can you even ask me that? I’ve been going slowly mad with no end in sight and without warning, you’re here.” He looked at her with such stark intensity, she shivered. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

Dastan reached for her, running his thumb along her cheek, his other hand cupping the nape of her neck, fingers teasing at her braided hair. He had so many questions - about her injury, how she came to be here with his father; if she missed him as much as he missed her...

Instead, he blurted out, “Is this how you looked when we slogged through the desert together?" admiring her glowing, sun-kissed skin and the wisps of wind-blown hair that surrounded her face. “How did I ever keep my hands off you?”

“I suppose the other Dastan was indeed a better man than you,” Tamina teased. “But I want to feel your hands on me again. I'm filthy though, is that water for me?” 

Dastan led her to the standing bath and began to undress her. Gentle, languid and rather chaste, he pulled at the laces tying her tunic, drawing it over her head, baring her to the cool evening air. Pushing her linen trousers down over her hips, his warm hands followed after until he knelt at her feet, looking up at her. 

Tamina breathed out a contented sigh as he removed her short leather boots and tugged the last of her clothing off, giving his hand to help her step into the water. She stood before him, gloriously naked, milky skin glowing in the lamplight, allowing him to take care of her. He suddenly felt elated and slightly overwhelmed and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling into her belly.

“I love you Tamina,” he murmured into her skin, voice choked with emotion.

“And I love you, my husband.” Tamina ran her fingers through his hair and hugged him to her. “Do you feel thoroughly married now too? Our real wedding will be anticlimactic.”

Dastan chuckled and dipped a small towel in the warm water, drawing it lazily up her leg to the apex of her thighs, lightly brushing her mound, causing Tamina to gasp softly. Dastan gave her a wicked glance before turning his attention to her other leg, letting his warm hand trail after the wet cloth, easing the chill it left on her skin. 

Cold and heat. Tamina trembled in reaction, lost in sensation as he stood to continue to wash her, his hands lingering over every dip, swell and plane of her body, relishing the feel of her. Savoring every breathy moan and shiver he caused. That he had every right to cherish her now. 

Nudging her braided hair aside, he paused to trace the wound on her back, finely curved like the thin crescent of a new moon. 

Tamina looked at him over her shoulder. “How does it look?” 

Dastan swallowed thickly. “It’s rather beautiful... for a scar.” 

The stark proof of her love. He felt a thrill of possessive gratification before guilt rose up to take its place.  _ You should not have done it.  _ But he didn’t say it aloud. She’d always do what she thought she must. Even risking her own life to save his unworthy hide. 

Dastan sighed and turned her around to gently wash her face and when she felt the cloth drift down her neck, she opened her eyes to find him staring hungrily at her breasts. Sliding the towel over and around and under, pushing them up, need flaring when he saw her rosy nipples tighten. 

He reached down, hand skimming over her thigh, sweeping his fingers softly, delicately over her opening and parted her folds, teasing her bud with a whisper of touch, intently watching her reaction. Tamina moaned and trembled at his exquisite touch. Dastan lowered his head to capture her lips but then stopped, letting his hands fall away, turning to pick up a bath sheet to dry her off.

“Dastan… ” Tamina whined.

“Sorry my love, I got carried away,” he said ruefully. “You must be tired and hungry.” 

“You’re being entirely too courteous,” she complained. Then with a challenging gleam in her eyes, Tamina reached to open his tunic, running her hands slowly over his sculpted chest before pushing the shirt over his broad shoulders. 

Ignoring the shudder of pleasure that shook him, Dastan caught her wrists, raising his eyebrows, amused at her persistence. “We should eat, Ishtar.”

Tamina frowned, puzzled. “Why do call me that?”

Dastan gave her a tender half-smile, tucking her hands away and wrapped her snugly in the bath sheet. “When I first saw you - courageous, imperious and perilously beautiful, you made me think of her.” 

Tamina’s eyes narrowed and her chin came up in haughty displeasure. “Ishtar is a capricious temptress.” 

“Exactly,” he teased with a wink, enjoying her lofty irritation. He had a feeling he’d seen that look much more often in their first adventure together.

He contained his wicked grin and recited with a solemn air, “ _ Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners? She. The Queen of Heaven.”  _

Dastan tilted his head, considering. “My initial impression of you hasn’t really changed. You are not capricious, but the rest? Yes… ” he said with a playful tug of her braid. “And you’re  _ my  _ goddess. Which means I’m allowed to serve you. Humor me.”

Tamina rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She glanced at the large bowls and platters holding fruit, nuts and cold meat which were placed haphazardly around the tent. “I admit I’m hungry, but a simple meal will do. I’m sure the king isn’t expecting us to join him tonight.”

Dastan’s brow furrowed. “My father…how… ?” 

“He came to Alamut because he wasn’t satisfied with our explanation, just as you and your brothers feared.” She sighed, looking at him gravely. “Your father played an important part in what has befallen us. His actions, although entirely innocent, set it all in motion.” 

Dastan stood frozen in shock as Tamina told him about the heartbroken king, his corrupted brother, the lost priest. 

Finally, she mused, “A fading scroll lying forgotten in a distant palace and a clever king who deciphered it. I wonder how many other dangerous remnants are out there waiting for mischance to expose us. A bitter reminder of why the guardians exist, to remain ever vigilant.”

“My father knows everything? You told him?” Dastan asked in astonishment.

“I had only a moment to decide - truth or evasion. I chose to confide in him so you won’t have to lie to your father for the rest of your life.” She stepped into his arms and rested her hand over his heart. 

“And also so I could tell him what a great man you are, a great hero.” She kissed him sweetly. “But that, he already knew.”

Dastan flushed and ducked his head onto her shoulder. “Thank you, for trusting him as well.”

“He will wish to speak with you about it all, I’m sure. But not tonight.” She took his hand and pulled him toward a plate of delicious-looking roasted pheasant. “Shall we?” 

They ate sitting together on a tall ottoman and talked of their weeks apart, listening to the voices of the soldiers around them - shouts, song, and boisterous laughter. An undercurrent of sensuous awareness shimmering between them, exchanging light caresses or the soft brush of a kiss. 

As she sliced open a peach, licking at a drop of sweet juice that slid down her wrist, Tamina felt his eyes on her, bright with desire. She stood to face him and let the bath sheet she still wore drop to the ground. 

Voice husky, Tamina demanded, “Come Dastan, make a mess of me again.” At her words, their low burning flame ignited.

They met in a devouring kiss, Tamina tearing at his clothes. Dastan didn’t try to slow them down this time, both desperate to satisfy their hunger for each other. His hands cupped her soft, perfect breasts, thumbing her nipples and she pushed her hands under the sash at his waist, searching for a way in. Dastan’s hands joined hers, quickly undoing the ties at his hip and together they dragged his trousers down. Tamina reached for his hardening shaft as it sprang free, making him quake at her touch, groaning deep in his throat.

With her hand wrapped around him, stroking him, he sank to his knees, pulling her down and into his lap. Tamina ached for him to fill her and eagerly guided him to her opening. The slight burn as he entered her, a blissful stretch, driving her on to take him in one smooth plunge. 

When he was deep and pulsing inside her, immense satisfaction filled them both and their urgency eased. As he moved within her snug heat, she savored his solid vitality, his scent enveloping her, the taste of him filling her mouth. Her lover engulfing her, claiming her. 

Dastan rocked against her in an undulating rhythm, her soft curves pressing into him and her throaty moans clouding his mind. “I’ve waited forever to have you again. Uncertain agony, remembering what you felt like, tasted like. Invading my dreams with insatiable, unbearable want,” he muttered harshly, his mouth hovering over hers so she felt every word against her lips. 

He felt her begin to flutter around him and lifted his hips, thrusting deeper. With an unyielding arm around her waist that made her rub against him in just the right spot, her head dropped to his shoulder, overcome with sweet delight. Dastan gripped her neck in his large hand. 

“Tamina, love,” he urged, “look at me.” Her eyes rose to meet his, hazy and half-closed. 

She panted in short breaths as she came apart locked in his enveloping embrace. He took her mouth in a fierce kiss, swallowing her whimpering cries of rapture and his own hoarse moan of release as he followed her over the edge.

Tamina melted in his arms, the aftermath still shivering through her body. After a moment she was only vaguely aware of him carrying her to bed. She opened her eyes to find him on his knees watching her, hot breath stirring the curls between her legs, giving her a wicked smile before pushing her folds apart with his thumbs and putting his mouth on her.  

“You’re perfect, blushing pink and glistening, spread open for me,” He murmured, lips sliding over her, his voice sending delicious vibrations through her core. 

He took his time, nuzzling into her with feather-soft licks, lapping up the musky wetness that seeped out of her. Her juices mixed with his, honey and salt. He moaned and suddenly became ravenous, tongue sweeping insistently through her folds. She gasped at the wet heat and delicious rasp of his tongue, hearing his gratified groan as he devoured her. Tamina whispered his name over and over, mindless with need when he finally took her bud in his mouth, sucking gently, his thumbs rubbing at her folds. Tamina arched against him, hands twisting in his hair as warm waves of bliss cascaded up her body.

She didn’t float away in a haze of sensation this time, feeling a restless throb, the craving to be full again. Dastan was still lazily licking her and she tugged at his hair, wrapping her legs around his back, urging him on. 

“Please Dastan… more” she begged, seeing the flash in his eyes at her undisguised hunger for him. 

He stepped between her parted thighs, dragging her by the hips to meet him and entered her excruciatingly slowly, rolling his hips as their bodies merged, rocking into her at a leisurely pace. With a beguiling smile, Tamina ran her hands greedily over his chest and arms, rubbing his nipples, making him groan and laugh in the same breath. Dastan shook his head with a playful frown, drawing her hands away to hold them above her head, twining their fingers together, anchoring them.

“I can’t… I won’t last long if you touch me like that,” he admitted.

“I want to make you lose control,” she pouted, twisting a little against his hold, moaning when she realized she enjoyed it.

Dastan growled and licked into her mouth. Tamina savored his flavor; he tasted like her, tasted like them. Hovering over her they exchanged deep, drugging kisses and she reveled in his solid weight pressing her down, how her taunt back arched naturally into his body with her hands above her head. When he let her go a few moments later she kept them there, relishing the sensation of being completely exposed to him as he thrust into her. 

Dastan brows rose in surprise at her languid submission. “What a sight you are,” he breathed, “awaiting my pleasure.” 

Tamina gave him a wanton smile and curved her back a bit more in invitation. She knew his pleasure would be hers. 

Sweeping his hands over her body, he palmed her generous breasts, teasing her nipples, feeling her clench down on him instinctively with every pinch and twist. Watching her writhe in pulsing anticipation as her moans turned into silent gasps. 

He took her hips and drove into her forcefully then, dragging his open mouth down her neck to her breasts, sucking, mumbling incoherently into her skin. He couldn’t hold out any longer and lowered a hand between them to rub in tight circles at her pearl, giving a horse cry when he felt her convulse around him. He spilled into her, his body rippling and shuddering against hers. 

With his last strength, Dastan turned them, settling her on top of him. Thoroughly sated, she idly kissed his shoulder and drew lazy patterns over his skin, feeling him begin to drift off into sleep.

“I’ve asked your father’s leave to travel back to Alamut alone with you,” Tamina murmured. “I must visit the guardian temple and I’d like to show you the places we went to before.”

Dastan opened one eye. “What did you say?”

“You know there are some delightfully disreputable people in the Valley of the Slaves I want you to meet. I’m going to invite Sheik Amar and Seso to our wedding. We’ll drink too much and you can teach me how to gamble.” 

He looked at her skeptically. “You really want to journey through the wild without the comforts of the royal caravan? Burning days, freezing nights and sand everywhere?”

Tamina nodded happily. “Wrapped up together, sleeping under the stars and making love in a beautiful oasis. Everything we didn’t do the first time.”

“I begin to see the appeal.” Dastan smiled slyly, “Will you wear the ostrich-girl dress for me?”

Tamina snorted a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Rogue.”

Dastan grinned. “But you love me anyway.” 

She snuggled into him, utterly content. “But I love you anyway.”

THE END

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my story and the very friendly feedback. I really appreciate it!
> 
> 'Inanna -Ishtar is an ancient Mesopotamian goddess associated with love, beauty, sex, desire, fertility, war, justice and political power. She is alluded to in the Hebrew Bible in The Song of Songs which bears strong similarities to Sumerian love poems involving Ishtar and her husband Dumuzid.  
> "Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?" (Song of Songs 6:10) is almost certainly a reference to Ishtar.'  
> Ref wikipedia


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